Return Us To Who We Were
by PerfectDisaster22
Summary: Michelle di Angeli was ripping open wounds he'd rather weren't touched. Every step forward takes Gabrael one step back, until at the end he has a choice: to have his soul restored, or to cast aside the life he has in order to take the life he wants.
1. I

**Author's Note**: Thank you so much for your (im)patience! I know I said I would have this story out months ago, but thanks to some incredible comments from you readers, I decided to completely change the plot of the story. Then I had to wrestle with the plot and make it make sense… and then I had to wrestle with Gabrael, because he was giving me writer's block and being impossible in every way he could think of. I've worked through all of those issues now, though, and am happy to (finally) present to you the sequel to _Princess of Light, Angel of Darkness_!

As always, your comments and feedback are my sustenance. I'm not one of those writers who say they won't post until they have X amount of reviews, but please always feel free to tell me exactly what you think of my work!

**Disclaimer**: You know the deal. I don't own the world of Van Helsing. I just own my own characters, and I own the plot.

* * *

I walked through the shadowy streets of London, shaking my head. I had walked through these streets far too many times to be counted throughout the city's history, and it never ceased to amuse and amaze me, what had changed and what had not. True, the streets were now lit with electric lights and not gas lamps, and were paved with asphalt instead of cobblestones. But the seedy underworld of the London backstreets, characterized by booze, prostitutes, drunken brawls and murder, had not and most likely would not ever change.

For a moment, I felt my age of eons. It was a strange moodiness; a melancholy that I'd lived with for far too long, as well as a weariness born of seeing too many sunsets and sunrises that I had little desire to view. Strange how the humans hadn't changed… or was it I who remained, eternal and unchanging, as the rest of the world passed me by?

I carefully shut off and locked away my thoughts before that rumination led to memories of _her_. I had successfully avoided thinking about her for a good three hours now- a record- and for the moment I'd like to keep it that way.

Strange, how time works. It's been nearly 121 years since the last time I saw her alive. Sometimes, it feels like only an instant, like at any moment I'll turn and find her coming around the corner to meet me and yell at me for not waiting for her. Other times, it's been an unfathomable eternity, and I don't fully understand how I've lived the last century without her.

Of course, how I've lived might be explained by the fact that I'm a friggin' angelic werewolf, and can never die.

I found out that miniscule detail the hard way back in 1887, during the first full moon after Anna Valerious died. It was a nasty little shock to find myself shredding my skin and becoming a huge black wolf. When I demanded to know what was going on, Carl did some research and discovered that Dracula's "cure" for lycanthropy worked on an atomic level, reversing the DNA changes the lycan gene causes. Being an angel, I don't have genes. Therefore, the lycanthropy had invaded my essence, and could never be reversed. Meaning, Anna had died in vain, and I was stuck like this until the end of the world when I got to blow my silver horn and get out of this mess.

Not that I hadn't tried to die. I'd tried many times- taking on ridiculous odds with no protection whatsoever, trying to get into fatal accidents, attempting suicide. But it never worked. I'd never been able to cast off who and what I was long enough to manage to kill myself. I'd been absolutely furious when I learned that. It hadn't made sense to me; how was it possible that my angelic nature allowed me to become a werewolf in the first place, and then prevented the cure from working?

And, more painfully, how was it possible that I had become indestructible as an angelic werewolf, yet Mikael, as an angelic vampyre, had not been?

I winced as her name resounded through my head. _Mikael, my Mikael_… So much for not thinking of her.

I shook myself in an attempt to clear my head. I couldn't afford to do this right now; I was here on a mission…

For months after Mikael's death, I had locked myself in my room in the Basilica, refusing to talk to anyone, throwing anything and everything into the walls, refusing food and drink and sleep, doing nothing but grieving and suffering. Finally, though, I had come to the conclusion that I might as well make use of eternity by continuing my work for the Order. Since they could never lose my services, I might as well throw myself into missions, and hope that by the fervor of my work, I could somehow find absolution and peace.

It hadn't worked yet.

I'd refused to have a partner after Carl's death. He'd lived a long, full life, and had come with me on every mission after the disastrous one in Transylvania because he was the only one who could even hope to reason with me. He'd died in 1956 at the age of 95, and I had missed him ever since.

The ensuing 52 years had been very lonely, but busier than ever. I had changed my name to Gabe Von Lycanius shortly after the Transylvania disaster, both to escape my notoriety as Van Helsing, and to (unsuccessfully) escape my memories of my days with Mikael. I threw myself into work even harder than I had previously to stop thinking and remembering, and to keep from reflecting on the fact that everyone I had grown close to was dead, and I was all that was left. Cardinal Albaretti… Mother Agnes… Carl… Anna… Mikael… they were all dead, and I was alone.

I was here in London on a retrieval mission. Svetlana Rosteria, the Gypsy priestess who was the current head of the Knights of the Holy Order, had asked me to come here to find a girl named Michelle de Angeli, and to bring her to Rome. Apparently, Michelle was a gypsy princess descended from the Valerious family, and Svetlana was hoping to train her to become a vampyre slayer as her famous ancestors Voris, Velkan, Anna and Mikael had been.

A huge friggin' red flag had popped up in my mind the moment Svetlana told me this girl was descended from the Valerious. That had to be impossible; I well remembered the deaths of the last two daughters of the Valerious line, and my part in each of their demises. But when I'd said it wasn't possible, Svetlana had simply handed me a family tree.

Apparently, Valerious the Elder had had an affair with the high princess of the Castragoni gypsy clan, and that bastard daughter, Nicholetta, had become high queen of all the Romanian gypsies. A few generations later, a descendant of Nicholetta had married back into the Valerious line, and that branch of the Castragoni-Valerious tree had survived after Anna and Mikael died. Hence Michelle being the last descendant of the Valerious, and the last of the Gypsy royalty.

I'd had to sigh when Svetlana asked me to go get her; she knew full well about my history with the Valerious clan. Come to think of it, that was probably why Svetlana asked me. But I'd had about enough of that family to last me an eternity, thank you very little.

I couldn't exactly refuse, though. What else was I going to do? The mythical creatures of the world had gone increasingly underground since the 1880s, and were behaving themselves for the most part (except for a rather annoying clan of vampyre in Volterra, Italy, called the Volturi, who for the last few thousand years had pranced about calling themselves the vampyric royal family). Lately, there wasn't much I had to do for the Order but monitor everything, and deal with the occasional incident when the humans were in danger of learning of the existence of the mythical world. When it came to dealing with Dracula wannabes or fetching mortals, I'd take the latter.

Svetlana had told me that Michelle owned an esoteric shop, The Mythological Café, in downtown London. I was supposed to sit her down, explain things to her, and ask her to come to Rome. Then I just had to protect her from that annoying vampyre clan and anything else that might try to steal her until I got her to the Basilica. Easy enough.

A week or two of work, and then I would never have to deal with the cursed Valerious line again.


	2. II

**Author's Note**: I am very impressed with myself for getting this posted. This is my last week of classes before finals week, so I'm gonna be supernaturally busy trying to get everything done. But I really want to get this story rolling, so I'll make a concerted effort to post at least one more chapter before the week is over. Enjoy it!

* * *

:: Gabrael's POV ::

The Mythological Café was actually a pretty decent place. I'd been expecting it to be filled to the rafters with books by Sylvia Browne, Casanova candles, cheap divining runes and choking incense. Instead, there was a spacious front room lined with bookshelves, with the books clearly arranged by topic, and a few armchairs scattered about. Yes, there was incense, but it was white sage, and it had been used sparingly, so the scent wasn't cloying. The second room held magical tools- wands, athames, refills for oils and incenses, crystals, candles, herbs both fresh and dried, and the like- and other assorted paraphenalia. I looked around in appreciation; Michelle seemed to know her stuff.

It was in the second room that I found Michelle. She was behind the counter, doing bookwork before closing for the night. I had been expecting to find a measly, wan creature decked out in tye-dye and hippie beads with weird jewelry, rose-tinted cat's-eye glasses, and Birkenstocks. Instead, she was a tall, slender woman, with black hair down to the middle of her back. She was dressed in all black, and wore only a simple pentacle necklace. She was paler than I remembered most Gypsies to be, and I was jerked out of my memories when she spoke in not a Romanian, but a British accent.

"I'm sorry, sir, we're closed for the evening."  
"Michelle de Angeli?" I asked.  
She nodded. "That's what they call me."  
"My name is Gabe Von Lycanius," I said. "I need to speak with you, in private."  
She raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Are you an evangelist?"  
Despite myself, a short laugh left my lips. "No, I'm not. I've come here with a… job offer, of sorts."  
"I'm sorry, I'm not interested," she said, closing the cash register.  
"Please, just hear me out," I requested.  
She paused for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Let's go into the front room."

She led me to the front room, clutching a red mug filled with what smelled like chai tea, where she locked the door and shut the blinds in the door and window before sitting in one of the armchairs. She pulled her legs up underneath herself and leaned against the armrest, waiting. She trained her gray eyes on me, and I needed a minute to compose myself, to force myself to overlook how much she looked like another woman I had once known.

I leaned forward in my seat, resting my forearms on my thighs as I started. "First of all, I need to ask that you suspend any disbelief. If you have questions when I'm done, I'll answer them if I can, but I need you to believe that I'm completely serious here."  
Michelle's brows drew together in suspicion. "Who are you?"  
"I am a member of a secret society, based in Rome," I began. "We're called the Knights of the Holy Order."

Michelle stood apruptly and headed for the shelves. I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"Miss de Angeli?"  
"Please, continue," she said. "I'm only looking for a book… I'm sure it mentioned this Order…"  
I shook my head. "It's very doubtful. The only ones who know about the Order belong to it. Our purpose is to guard the world from evil."

Michelle, apparently having found the book she was looking for, walked back to her armchair and sat down, flipping through it. It was heavy, and thick, and somehow looked vaguely familiar to me. She opened it to a certain page and began reading in perfect Latin.

"_As nearly as can be reckoned, the Knights of the Holy Order were first established as a society by the ancient Babylonians. Their original name was The Immortal Protectors, and their mission was to defend the innocent and unknowing human population from being preyed upon by the creatures of evil- creatures now called demons, vampyre, werewolves, inccubi and succubi, warlocks and malevolent witches, and the like. The society survived through each major world civilization, its name changing with each change of hands. In the 600s, the leaders of all the world religions came together and agreed that this society's members would consist of holy men and women of all walks of faith, and the society, now called the Knights of the Holy Order, would be based in Rome, God's chosen city. Thus it has remained ever since, and it is said the Order has the divine protection of God through the archangels Michael and Gabriel._" She looked up at me, eyebrows raised. "This is the Order you were speaking of?"  
I stared at her. "How do you know Latin? And where did you get that book?"  
A ghost of a smirk crossed Michelle's face. "I double majored in Languages and World History, and double minored in World Religions and Philosophy, at Oxford. The book came in a shipment from a private contributer based in Sicily. So it's true?"  
nodded, trying to get my bearings. "Yes. It's true."

Michelle closed the book, and I stared as I saw the title- _The Warriors of God_. Now I understood where I had seen this book; it had been written by Cardinal Albaretti. But how had it gotten out of the possession of the Order?

"Could I request that you not sell this book?" I asked. "You understand how dangerous it could be, if it got into the wrong hands."  
"You're talking as if the Order is still active," Michelle said suspiciously, closing the book and setting it on her lap.  
"Not as active as it once was," I said, ruefully remembering my more dynamic days. "But the organization does still exist. Currently, the Order's main focus is to monitor mythological creatures and to ensure that humans don't know that anything contrary to their view of reality exists."  
Michelle pursed her lips. "What does this have to do with me?"  
"Well, Miss de Angeli-"  
She held up a hand. "Please, call me Michelle."  
I inclined my head, a small smile on my face. "Michelle. How much do you know of your family history?"  
"Not much," she admitted. "I know there's Gypsy blood somewhere in the family line, but that's about it. Why? How much do you know?"  
I smiled wider this time. "A bit more than that. Have you ever heard of the Valerious clan?"

She shook her head, her gray eyes intent. I took a deep breath; I did _not_ like that I had to be the one to give her this information. I hated talking about this family…

"They were a powerful family in the 1400s. The family patriarch, Valerious the Elder, was a Knight of the Order. He pledged himself and his family to the Order, to vanquish Dracula and his offspring."  
Michelle stared at me for a second, then burst into laughter. "Dracula?" she asked, trying to get herself under control. "Dracula's a fictional character, made up by Bram Stoker and based off-"  
"Vlad the Impaler, yes," I said, the name bitter in my mouth. "Remember this, Michelle; history- especially where mythological creatures are concerned- is never like books say it is. Dracula did exist, and the Valerious were committed to defeating him."  
"So what happened?" Michelle asked, more sober now. "Is he still flying around sucking blood?"  
"No," I said. "He was killed by a member of the Order in 1887."

Subconsciously, I started twisting the dragon ring on the ring finger of my left hand. I'd had this ring for nearly 600 years now, but it was only after killing Dracula that I'd remembered that it had been my wedding ring after I took it from the vampyre king's finger. It hadn't left my left hand since.

"So what do the Valerious family have to do with me?" she asked, jerking me back to the present.  
I cleared my throat. "Valerious the Elder had an illegitimate daughter with Adriana Castragoni, the princess of the Romanian Gypsies. A few generations later, the two lines intermarried. Long story short, you, Michelle, are the descendant of the Castragonis and the Valerious, and you are the last remaining member of the Gypsy royal family."

She stared at me, shocked. I gave her a moment to let that all sink in.

"But… how?" she asked. "How could I be the last one?"  
I took a breath, hoping that this wouldn't be too painful to get out. "A hundred-some-odd years ago, when Dracula was destroyed, the last members of the Valerious family that the Order knew of were killed. It wasn't until recently that the Order discovered the Castragoni-Valerious line, and that they were able to find you."  
Michelle nodded slowly, and I knew the big question was coming up. "What does all of this have to do with me? The Order, the Valerious and the Castragoni… Why do I have to know this?"  
I sat up straighter to deliver the news. "Valerious the Elder pledged his entire family to the Order. With the blood of the Valerious running in your veins, you're bound by this promise. The head of the Order, Svetlana Rosteria, wants me to extend an invitation to you to come to Rome to be trained as a Knight of the Order."

Michelle collapsed against the back of the chair and let out a long, weary exhale. I waited patiently, watching her as she processed the news.

"But… But I'm an ordinary person," she said weakly. "I'm not a knight."  
"You have warriors' blood running in your veins," I said. "Your ancestors were powerful defenders against evil. I'm offering you the chance to do the same."  
"And if I refused?" she asked.  
"There's nothing I can do or say to force you," I replied. "But I will say this." I motioned around the store. "You already believe that the world I speak of exists. You're being offered a chance to protect it, to be sure it doesn't die out."  
She nodded slowly. "I'm not particularly gifted, or powerful. But I've always known I was called to protect people," she said, talking to herself. "When I was younger, I'd beg my grandmother to tell me Gypsy legends and stories. My mother always told me they weren't true, but I knew better." She drew a deep breath and looked at me. "Alright. I'll come to Rome."  
"Wonderful," I said, standing. "We'll leave tonight. Your things will be brought for you, and the shop will be cared for until your return."  
"My return?" she asked, puzzled.  
"What, you didn't think we'd keep you in Rome forever, did you?" I asked, shaking my head. "After your training period, you'll come back here. The UK will be your assigned sector of the world, and if anything strange starts happening, you'll be the one called to investigate it. But if there's no call, you can live your life normally."

_Unlike me_, I thought ruefully.

"I'd need to tell my roommate," Michelle said.  
I shook my head. "No one must know what you're doing."  
Her face hardened. "Then I must bid you farewell, Mr. Von Lycanius," she said cooly. "Annie is my dearest friend. I tell her everything. I would be unable to keep something this big from her. Besides, were I to become a knight for you, wouldn't things start targeting me? If so, then Annie is at risk too, and she deserves to know what's happening."  
I sighed, instantly seeing the truth in what she said. "We'll bring her to Rome, as well."  
"Thank you," she said.

She pulled on a long black trench similar to the one I wore, belted it tight around her, and locked the shop up before leading me through the streets to her modest apartment building. Silently, she led me up three flights of stairs before unlocking her door.

"Annie?" she called.  
"Living room, Mikey!" came an energetic voice.

Michelle led me through the small, cluttered kitchen to the small, cluttered living room. Among the furniture, books, and cats was a petite woman dressed in track clothes, following along with a yoga DVD. Her hair was dark brown with red highlights, and was chopped in spiky layers, the longest of which brushed her chin. Her eyes were a surprising shade of electric blue. Energy and zest were inscribed in every line of her thin, athletic frame. She seemed to be Michelle's opposite in every concieveable way.

"Annie, we need to talk," Michelle said.  
"Who's the stiff?" Annie asked, looking at me (I pretended not to mind the insult).  
"Part of what we need to talk about," Michelle said.  
"I'm listening," Annie said, breaking her Warrior II pose to plop onto the yellow leather couch and scoop a cat onto her lap.

Michelle explained everything, with my help, while Annie stayed incredibly still, her eyes focused entirely on us. When we were finished, Annie nodded.

"I'm coming," she said. "Lord knows I can't trust you to be on your own."  
Michelle laughed. "Or maybe you'd just go insane without someone to boss around."  
"That too," Annie said, jumping up to pack.

I stayed where I was, watching the two girls pack. I was impressed with how quick and efficient the two of them were; it was almost as if they had already worked out a routine for quick escapes. There was little chatter, but much running about; within five minutes they were both ready to go.

Ten minutes later, Annie, Michelle and I were walking down the streets of London, looking for a cab that could take us to Heathrow Airport. I glanced around as we walked; it was quiet. Very quiet. Too quiet.

It all happened in a split second. There was a low growl, then a mass of brown fur lunged out of an alleyway and tackled Michelle. Annie screamed, and was hurled into the ground by one swipe of the werewolf's paw. I snarled, letting the wolf inside of me out to play as I knocked the other werewolf off of her. We tumbled through the streets, snarling and scratching each other. I threw the other wolf into the wall, then turned to look for Michelle.

She stood in the middle of the street, protecting Annie, but she wasn't petrified with fear. Her eyes were closed, and she was chanting quietly in Romanian, her face relaxed and in control.

There was a low rumble from beneath my feet, then I was knocked over by the shock of the earthquake as it caused a rupture in the street. The other werewolf fell, screaming, into the chasm before the ground closed itself again, and all was calm.

I changed form and quickly pulled my clothes back on, then stared at Michelle, who seemed shocked.

"How did you do that?" I asked, astonished.  
"I… I don't know," she replied, seemingly stunned. "I just remembered something my grandmother used to tell me, about channelling the earth's energy to protect yourself, and… and then the earthquake hit."  
Annie stared at Michelle in amazement. "Nothing special in the witch department, right?" she asked mockingly. "Jesus Christ, Mikey!"  
I shook my head. "We have to get out of here. If you've got werewolves attacking you, there's something more going on than Svetlana originally told me." I glanced at the two women. "It'd be faster if I ran. Could you both hold on?"

They nodded. Annie seemed shaken, but Michelle was incredibly composed given what had just happened to her. Michelle climbed onto my back after I changed form, and I gathered Annie into my arms before sprinting through the streets.

As I ran, I pondered what had just happened. I knew there was a pack of werewolves in London; they'd been here since at least the 1600s. But it was incredibly rare that they attacked humans, and when they did it was never a random attack. But this werewolf had not belonged to their pack, I could smell it.

So, who had sent him? And why were they after Michelle de Angeli?


	3. III

**Author's Note**: I indulged myself a bit with one of the characters you'll meet in this chapter- James Blake used to be one of my most infamous characters, in my Quizilla days. I couldn't resist using the name again, even though the character is nothing like the original.

Oh, and there's some Romanian used in this chapter. I'll put all the translations down at the bottom, after the story text. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own much of anything in this story- but the character of James Blake belongs to me and the following authors (and this isn't really a complete list): Sara, Sky, Henderson, Kate, Chelly, Molly, and all the other GD authors from QZ who loved and adored Jimmy.

* * *

:: Gabe's POV ::

When we made it to Heathrow, I shifted back into human form and set the girls down, then hurried them through to our terminal. Svetlana had arranged a private jet for me, so as soon as we were situated, the plane taxied down the runway and took off.

Michelle fell asleep quickly, exhausted from what she had done with the earthquake. As soon as she was soundly asleep, Annie turned to face me.

"Why does this Order need Michelle so much?" she asked. "Yeah, so she's Gypsy royalty, so what? What's happening, that you need to train her?"  
I smiled faintly. "You're very blunt, aren't you?"  
"Well, aren't you just Captain Obvious?" Annie shot back.  
My smile grew. "Did you not see what Michelle did back there?"  
"Yes, of course I saw it," Annie said.  
"That's why she has to be brought to Rome," I said. "She's completely untrained, but look what she did. She caused a 6.2-strength earthquake. Svetlana thinks that if she's properly trained to her potential, she could become the strongest human Knight in the entire Order."  
"How did you find out about her?" Annie asked suspiciously.  
I smiled again. "You don't trust me, do you?"  
"No, I don't," Annie said. "You come out of nowhere, you tell Michelle you need her for some mysterious Order that sounds more like a cult, you nearly get her mauled by a wolf-"  
"By a werewolf," I corrected her. "There's a difference."  
"Yeah, yeah," she saved me off. "How did you know where she was?"  
"The Order can get ahold of any information it needs," I said.  
"I was right," Annie muttered. "You are a cult. Well listen to me good, wolf boy. Michelle is the only kind of family I have. If she gets hurt, you will answer to me. Got that?"

I laughed. I liked this brash, tempestuous girl. Recognition niggled on the outer fringes of my brain, but I couldn't quite tell what she reminded me of. For now, I brushed it off.

"I'm going to protect her, Annie," I promised. "You too."  
She scoffed. "I don't need your protection, Von Lycanius. Just keep Michelle safe." She turned a bit to glance at her sleeping friend. "She's more than she thinks she is."  
I tilted my head, furrowing my brow. "What do you mean?"  
Annie shook her head and looked out the window. "Never mind," she said, clearly not trusting me enough to explain herself.

We spoke no more, but I kept a close watch on Annie and Michelle during the flight. Annie clearly knew something about the extent of Michelle's potential, but she was completely unwilling to talk about it. Michelle thought she was nothing special, but she was the most powerful human I'd ever met.

There were pieces of this puzzle missing, and I was determined to solve the mystery before I brought the girls home.

* * *

:: Michelle's POV ::

I fell asleep sometime before we were even out of England, and didn't awake until Gabe gently shook me.

"Michelle, we're here," he murmured, rubbing my arm.

I uncurled from the little ball I'd pulled my body into, stretching and wincing as I used my stiff muscles. I yawned once, shook my head, and undid my seatbelt, then followed Gabe and Annie off the plane and into the airport terminal. I lagged behind, watching Gabe and Annie bicker like old friends, and smiled. Good to see they were hitting it off so well. At least Annie wouldn't be bored now…

"Are you hungry or thirsty?" he asked us politely, but I could tell he was anxious to be gone.  
I shook my head. "No, thank you."  
"Annie?" Gabe asked.  
Annie grinned. "Well sure, I'll have a lamb kebob and a giant chocolate chip cookie and a lemonade and some kung pow chicken and a hot dog and some Ben and Jerry's and-"

He covered Annie's mouth with his hand, apparently not realizing that she was being completely serious. Annie may be petite, but she eats like a freakin' elephant. And when she gets hungry, her taste buds go wild- hence the wide range of things she was in the mood for.

"Come on," Gabe said.

He took off through the terminal, and Annie and I had to almost jog to keep up with his long stride. Curiousity burned through me, and I bit my lip to keep from asking my many questions. What would training be like? Was I expected to do anything special as Gypsy royalty? How had he become involved in the Order? How had he become a werewolf? And why was I suddenly feeling the oddest sense of déjà vu?

He didn't speak again until after he had arranged a rental car for us, and we were zooming along the highway in the direction of Rome.

"Had you ever seen a werewolf before, Michelle?" he asked, and I detected a note of anxiety beneath his calm.  
I nodded. "A friend of mine, James Blake, belongs to the London pack. I've been under the pack's protection since I met him."  
He glanced at me, surprised. "Why?"  
"Because he has the hots for her," Annie chimed in, snickering.  
I shoved Annie. "He does not. Jack is just really protective of me," I responded. "Partly because he said that there were too few Gypsies in the world to risk losing me. Then there's the fact that I tend to get myself in trouble frequently."  
"What kind of trouble?" Gabe asked, sounding amused.  
"Yes," Annie said sagely, nodding her head.  
"What?" Gabe asked, furrowing his brow.  
"Anything you can think of, Michelle's probably gotten in trouble with it," Annie said.  
I glanced out the window. "I'm not _that_ bad…" Annie just gave me a Look. I sighed, then turned my attention back to Gabe. "I've had encounters with malicious human and non-human spirits… a poltergeist tried to take up residence in our apartment… I attract leprechauns, fairies, pixies, and goblins like the Pied Piper attacts rats… a demon was stalking me for about a year… psychics and clairsentients have come up to me in the street and called me Commander… I dunno, I guess I just draw supernatural attention."  
I could see a smile quirking one corner of his mouth, but he quickly became more serious. "Had you ever seen that werewolf before?"  
I immediately shook my head. "No. Never. So unless he was from a rival pack, he would've had no reason to attack me."  
"Hmm," he said. "You so sure about that, given all that trouble you attract?"

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. Though to the casual observer he would look perfectly calm and in control, I could see the tension in the set of his jaw and the way he gripped the steering wheel. I cocked an eyebrow.

"You have an alternate theory?" I asked.  
Gabe cleared his throat. "Not really. I was just thinking that it could be a possibility that someone else found out about your heritage, and wants to take you under their wing. Gypsy magic is one of the most potent types left in the world, you know. If we knew of you, it only makes sense that someone else could find out."  
"Then why would they send a werewolf?" I asked. "Why not send someone to talk to me, like the Order did?"  
"Because historically, werewolves were often used as messengers or servants," Gabe said. "Dracula especially liked to use them."\  
I tilted my head. "You're very candid about all of this," I commented. "I would think that, given the type of information this is, you would be more guarded about sharing it."  
"Normally, I would be," he nodded. "But since you're going to join the Order, you might as well know the truth now. Besides, you're being rather candid yourself."  
"No, Annie is being candid for me, because she doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut," I corrected him, sticking my tongue out at Annie.

But I appreciated his stance on the issue. I had always been fascinated by all branches of the occult, and now I was being given more information in mere hours than I'd managed to track down in years. Far be it from me to question why it was being given so freely- don't look a gift horse in the mouth, and all that.

We arrived at the Basilica, but I hardly had time to appreciate its stately beauty before Gabe was rushing Annie and me through a private entrance concealed by shadows and bushes, and leading us down a hallway and a long flight of broad stairs.

"Where are we going?" I asked.  
"Order headquarters," he replied.  
"I thought the headquarters were the Basilica," I said.  
"No, I said they were _in_ the Basilica. Technically, they're beneath it," Gabe said.

I followed him closely, determined not to get lost, and hoping I was prepared for whatever was about to happen next.

* * *

:: Gabe's POV ::

The Order headquarters haven't changed much since I first came here. There are computers now, in addition to books, and most machines are now run on electricity, not gasoline. But other than that, it's almost identical to how it used to be, right down to the arrangement of departments.

I glanced at Michelle, whose brow was furrowed. "Are you all right?"  
"It's strange," she said. "This place seems so familiar to me… like I saw it in a dream, or something…"

The rustle of silks and a husky voice laced with a Romanian accent made me turn.

"Ah, Gabe, you have returned!" Svetlana said, arms outstretched.

She was, as always, dressed in the multicolored silks of her heritage, her wavy black hair pulled back by a green scarf and large gold chandelier earrings in her ears. Despite her relatively young age of 35, she was one of her tribe's elders and wise women. She had come to the Order seeking the supernatural history of Transylvania; she had stayed because she believed so much in our mission.

"Welcome to the headquarters of the Knights of the Holy Order, Michelle de Angeli," Svetlana said. "I am Svetlana Rosteria, head of the Order."

To my immense surprise, Michelle bent over in a bow, her hands clasped together in a prayer-like motion, her thumbs against her forehead.

"Salut, învăţător," she replied in Romanian.

I stared at her; this was the second time her Gypsy blood had revealed itself, and it appeared she had no control over when it chose to manifest itself. And when she spoke Romanian… It was probably just me, but it brought back memories of my last trip to Transylvania, when a beautiful, silver-eyed woman had stood beside me and acted as our translator.

I shook my head, trying to break out of my thoughts. I was _not_ going to think of Mikael right now. Just because Michelle displayed certain similarities to my dead wife, that was no excuse to lose control. I had met many women who shared some characteristics with Mikael. I had dealt with those painful reminders then, and I would do so again.

Svetlana smiled as if Michelle hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. "Very good. Your bunică taught you well."  
Michelle straightened, seeming confused about what she'd done, but said, "I've tried to remember everything she taught me, but it seems like I forget more of it every year."  
Svetlana's smile grew. "What you learned is in your blood, Michelle. When you have need of it, it will come to your aid."

I thought back to the earthquake she'd caused. Personally, it was rare that I considered anyone who claimed to have magic in their veins to be genuine. But after seeing what Michelle could do, even when she had had no apparent training… her Gypsy magic ran deep, and strong.

"And who is this?" Svetlana asked, her eyes sweeping over Annie.  
"Annie Reynolds," Michelle replied. "My roommate."

Svetlana looked at Annie in a manner I was very familiar with. Her gift was smelling out other people's powers and talents. Whatever she saw in Annie, it had startled her, but she hid her alarm well.

"Welcome, Annie. One of the priests will show you to your room. You will begin your training tomorrow, Michelle," Svetlana said. "In the meantime, Gabe will show you around the Basilica."

I raised an eyebrow at her, but she merely smiled mysteriously and sent us on our way. A priest came and showed Annie off, and Michelle and I were alone.

"Okay. Well, the headquarters is really the biggest thing to see," I said. "But we've also got an armory, and a lot of the art in the Basilica is actually about the Order members."  
"Really? Can I see?" Michelle asked.  
"Sure, if you're interested," I shrugged.

I took her through the Basilica hallways, showing her the paintings I'd been talking about. I remembered just about every one of the battles that had been painted on the walls, using allegories of angels and demons to shroud the truth of what had really happened.

Michelle stood before a huge painting that covered most of the wall between two small doors set under identical Gothic arches. She tilted her head slightly, studying the painting.

I folded my arms and set my jaw, waiting for her to speak. After I'd returned from Transylvania, I had painted this mural on the wall outside the Chapel of the Archangels. The painting was of the Archangel Michael slaying Lucifer, while two other angels, locked in battle, had their eyes on the scene in the foreground.

Only, in my version of the scene, Michael looked distinctly feminine, with long, flowing black hair and gray eyes instead of the traditional blond curls and blue eyes. Lucifer looked very similar to Michael, only more sinister, and he had fangs. One of the angels in the background- Archangel Raphael- had shoulder-length blond hair and blue-green eyes; the other- Archangel Gabriel- dark brown hair and green eyes.

My brow furrowed as I payed more attention to Michelle. She stared at Mikael's face as if transfixed, or tranced. Slowly, her head turned towards the door. She reached out as if to open the door-

"Wait!" I exclaimed on reflex, catching her arm. "Those doors are locked. Have been for as long as I can remember," I lied.  
She looked at me, seemingly out of the trance but not fully here, either. "What do they lead to?"  
"No one knows," I lied again.

I had told this lie many times before, so most people in the Order believed it. The truth was, I didn't want anyone going in there. The Chapel of the Archangels had been Mikael's and my place, and I didn't want another person to disturb the memories. Silly, maybe, but I had zealously guarded the chapel for decades, and I wasn't about to stop now.

Quickly, I led Michelle to the room she'd been assigned, and promised that I would meet her tomorrow morning to take her to her first day of training. Then I left her quickly, hoping that as I got to know her, her resemblance to Mikael would fade enough that I could be in her presence without feeling like my heart had been ripped out.

* * *

Your Friendly Guide To Romanian

salut- hello  
învăţător- teacher  
bunică- grandmother


	4. IV

**Author's Note**: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, even though in retrospect it reveals an awful lot more than I had originally planned. I do hope you enjoy it, though. Oh, and pay attention to Gabe's dream, that'll be important later.

* * *

:: Gabe's POV ::

_The plane was comprised of nothing but swirling gray mists. There was no above, nor below, and there were no sides; there was only the mist. There was no light, no darkness. There was nothing._

_She hung suspended in the mists, her hair and tunic in constant motion though there was no wind. Her arms were crossed at the wrist over her chest, almost as if she were bound; her ankles were crossed in a similar manner. There was no rope or chain restraining her, but it was clear that she couldn't move._

_Her eyes snapped open. Her silvery gray irises were the exact same color as the mists she was imprisoned in. They were flat, lifeless. Her spirit had been broken, all hope and life extinguished. Her beautiful, full lips opened, and she fixed her dead eyes on me. _

_"Save me," she mouthed._

I flew up in bed, panting and sweating.

Ever since Mikael's death, I've dreamt that dream. You'd think that, after over 100 years, the nightmare would lose its power to terrify me. But its horror has only grown in time. 100 years, and she hasn't moved once. She's been bound like that for over a century, and all she can do is look at me with lifeless eyes and ask me to save her.

That's the part that tortures me most of all, knowing that I can't save her.

I glanced at my pocketwatch; 5 am. I groaned, knowing that I wouldn't get back to sleep, and threw off my blankets. I threw on a shirt and jeans, then padded barefoot out of my room and down the hall. I walked without paying attention to where I was going until I reached my favorite hidden garden, the small one with the labyrinth laid down on the ground, where Mikael's and my paths had rejoined so long ago. I sat down on the bench and rested my forearms on my thighs, sighing.

"So this whole mysterious loner thing, is that by choice? Or are you a tragic hero in disguise?"

I smiled faintly at the now-familiar sarcastic voice, and turned to see Annie standing at the mouth of the secluded garden. She was dressed in a peasant shirt and gypsy skirt, complete with a head scarf and chandelier earrings. Dressed like that… and standing in that pose, with her hip cocked out and her hands on her hips… she looked so strangely familiar. But I just couldn't place her.

"Isn't it early for you to be up?" I asked.  
"I could ask the same of you," she replied, walking in and sitting beside me.  
I shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."  
"Neither could I," Annie said, looking around. "This place… It's so weird, but it feels like I was supposed to come here. Like it's been… I dunno… waiting for me."

It was the combination of her dreamy voice and her thoughtful profile that finally set the puzzle pieces together.

"Anna!" I exclaimed.  
"What?" she asked, whipping her head around, before her brow furrowed. "Wait… what?"  
"Anna," I said, more softly this time.  
Annie's brow furrowed again, but in recognition this time. "Anna… yes… That was my name, once…"  
I nodded. "Anna Valerious, princess of the gypsies."  
She looked at me, her eyes widened, and I knew I wasn't seeing Annie Reynolds anymore. "Van Helsing," she breathed, in a voice and an accent not her own.

A moment more, and she was in my arms, and my lips were on hers.

I should have felt ashamed, or like I was betraying Mikael. It had been a kiss like this 121 years ago that had led Mikael to forsake me. But Mikael wasn't here anymore; she was never coming back. And Anna had returned to me… Maybe God wanted me to move on, to take the relationship I'd been denied so long ago.

* * *

:: Michelle's POV ::

_I was walking through a garden, talking with a man dressed in red robes- a Cardinal of the Roman Catholic Church. It was dawn, but I was wide awake. As I looked around, it became apparent that I was not in my own time- there were gas lamps and candles lighting the morning. I was dressed in a black tunic top, tight black breeches, and black boots. Short swords were strapped around my waist, and my curly black hair was bound in a tight braid down my back._

_I glanced away from the Cardinal and happened to see a man standing in one of the contemplative gardens. He was tall and muscular, and dressed in all-dark clothes as I was. In his hands he held swords nearly identical to mine. He was moving methodically in what was clearly a choreographed swordfight- only he was fighting alone. As if in a trance, I moved towards him, unsheathing my own swords. I waited for my opportunity, then stepped in and engaged his swords with my own._

_His eyes snapped open, and I got a clear look at his face. His dark green eyes bored into mine, his early morning stubble creating a dark shadow across his strong jaw. His dark brown hair framed his face as he stared at me._

_I stared back at Gabrael for a moment, breathless. Then, without a word, the sword routine went on. I followed him perfectly, needing no instruction to know exactly how to match his movements. We were able to communicate to each other through subtle shifts in energy and movement, as if this dance of swords and bodies had been choreographed especially for the two of us._

_The dance finally ended. I stood still, looking up at Gabrael, wondering where the hell that had come from. Our eyes met, green boring into silver. I was frozen by his gaze; it made me feel powerless and invincible at the same time._

_I had the oddest feeling that this was far from the first time he had done this to me._

I shot out of bed, gasping for breath and sweating.

Annie and I had been at the Basilica for a week. In that week, we had each begun training as members of the Knights of the Holy Order- Annie as liason and researcher, me as agent and warrior. Annie had entered into a relationship with Gabe, had explained to me that they had been in love in a previous life.

Ever since she told me that she was dating Gabe, I had had dreams about this man. A man who looked suspiciously like Gabe, but whose name was Van Helsing.

Even though I ran an occult store, I had never really bought into the theory of past lives. Mostly because I didn't seem to have any. Any time I tried to conjure up memories of a life lived in the distant past, all I could see was swirling gray mist and absolute nothingness. But why else would I be dreaming about Gabe, unless I had known him sometime in the past?

The theory intrigued me, as did the copious amounts of déjà vu I'd been experiencing since landing in Rome. Was it possible that being here was awakening memories of a previous life? A life where I had spent time in the Basilica, and had known Gabe?

* * *

:: Gabe's POV ::

I walked through the darkened halls of the Basilica silently, my eyes and ears missing nothing. I kept to the shadows, the better to watch the darkness.

I haven't gotten much sleep in the past century. The nightmares (about Mikael, about people I had killed and battles I had fought) wake me up screaming after only a few hours, and fear of the nightmares has turned me into an insomniac. So more often than not, I end up prowling around the Basilica like a creeper.

I glanced around to be sure that no one was around, then pulled a key out of my pocket and unlocked the doors to the Chapel of the Archangels.

The chapel was small, but seemed spacious because of the high Gothic arched ceiling. It was simply decorated; no stained glass in the windows, no frescoes on the walls. The columns were plain white marble. The altar was bare, and instead of a crucifix or tabernacle, there were only three large statues.

Once upon a time, this chapel had been richly decorated with stained glass, mosaics on the floor, frescoes on the ceiling, all depicting the Archangels. But one night shortly after my return from Transylvania, the chapel had burned to the ground. If Mother Agnes or Carl ever suspected me of starting the fire, they never spoke of it.

I hadn't been able to bear thinking about this chapel, which had been Mikael's and my secret meeting place, let alone look at it. None of the decorations had been important or particularly valuable, so I hadn't felt too terrible about destroying it.

I had offered to oversee the construction of a new chapel, and had purposely designed it to look more like a museum than a holy place. When it was finished, I had locked it up and made sure that everyone kept well away from it by saying that the place was possessed by a demon. After everyone from "my generation" of slayers was dead, I no longer had to keep a close eye on the chapel, and was free to use it as I wished.

I glossed over the statue on the far right; I saw the face of that archangel often enough in the mirror. I ignored the statue in the middle by habit; I might have carved a statue of Raphael, but I hadn't yet forgiven him for falling, for taking Mikael into darkness with him. There were really only two reasons I'd come in here, and one of them was the statue on the far left.

The angel was obviously female, and had been carved in a wildly different statue than the previous two. They had been crafted into stagnant postures, but this angel was a study of motion. Her long hair and short dress blew in a nonexistant wind; her peacock-feather wings were unfolded and extended behind her. Her right arm, bearing a beautiful sword, was raised, and she looked ready to attack. She wore a breastplate and grieves, and a diadem crowned her forehead.

But I ignored all of those details, and instead focused on her face, wincing as the grief flared and lashed out in a violent outburst of tearless sobs.

It had taken me months just to craft her face. I had been in an agonized trance every time I attempted to chisel in a feature; I had been terrified that the statue would come out wrong, that I wouldn't be able to capture her beauty in stone. But I had. The statue was an exact reproduction of my perfect memory.

I stared at this memory and memorial of Mikael for what seemed like forever, allowing myself to grieve in the darkness and silence. When I couldn't take staring into the stone eyes any longer, I turned, focusing my attention on a series of shrines positioned along the western wall. One for Cardinal Albaretti, one for Mother Agnes, one for Carl, one for Mikael.

Another eternity passed as I gazed at her shrine. I couldn't bear to look at the paintings and photographs of her; instead I focused on her short swords, her favorite gun, a Romanian-style metal cross on a velvet choker, a blood-red ruby set into a gold ring.

When my grief had subsided to its normal, barely tolerable level, I left the chapel and locked it up silently. A movement in the shadows caught my attention; then I sighed heavily.

Michelle and Annie had been here for a month. Michelle had started sleepwalking three and a half weeks ago. She never remembered what she was dreaming of when she woke up the next morning, but every night her feet always led her to one of two places- the Chapel of the Archangels, or a bare expanse of wall that hid an old, abandoned chamber that hadn't been used in over a hundred years. It was almost as if her unconscious mind was searching for something- but how could her unconscious self know the significance of these places? No one, not even Svetlana, had been inside that chapel since I locked it up 121 years ago. No one knew that the abandoned chamber existed. How could Michelle know?

Or was I reading too much into it? Maybe her feet were just taking off, and what she was seeing in her dreams had nothing to do with where her body ended up?

I walked forward softly. "What are you doing, Michelle?" I asked quietly, hoping that my voice wouldn't wake her.  
"Looking… I need to find them…" she muttered, her gypsy accent becoming more prominent, as it always did when she was irritated.  
"Looking for what?" I asked.  
"They're mine… they're here somewhere…" she said, yanking on the door handle. "I want them back."  
"We'll look for them tomorrow, Michelle," I said. "Go back to bed now."  
"Do you promise, Gabrael?" she asked.

The use of my actual name was like a kick in the gut. I swallowed the lump in my throat and waited until I could speak without choking.

"I promise," I said.  
"Fine," she murmured, before turning on her heel.

I stared after her for a moment before hurrying to my own room. I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, looking around at the chamber I'd occupied for over 100 years, before undressing and slipping back in bed.

"Gabe?" Annie murmured, half-asleep.  
"Go back to sleep, love," I whispered.  
"Why're you awake?" she asked, yawning. "Were you out walking again?"  
"Michelle was sleepwalking again," I replied, wrapping my arms around her. "I got her to go back to bed."  
"You think she's sleepwalking because she's been here before?" Annie asked, laying her head on my chest. "Because she recognizes this place?"  
"No," I replied immediately.  
"How do you know?" she asked, yawning again. "You haven't always been here. Maybe she was here before you were."  
"We'll argue about this later," I said. "Go to sleep."

I had barely finished the sentence before Annie's breathing changed, indicating that she had fallen back asleep. I held her close and stared up at the ceiling beams, knowing that I would never get to sleep, and tried to keep from thinking of anything at all.

* * *

:: Svetlana's POV ::

"One more time," I said. "Really focus this time."

For the past two weeks I had been training with Michelle, teaching her how her magic worked. She was an apt student, and very talented. Today, she was trying to summon weapons to herself.

Michelle closed her eyes and held up her hands. She furrowed her brow, gathering her power and centering herself, before sending out a silent call. This time, there was a sonic BOOM and a blast of wind that threw me to the ground. I sat up, groaning, then stared at her.

Michelle had been dressed in a black tank top, jeans, and sandals. Her hair had been braided down her back. Now, she was dressed in black pinstripe trousers, a gray turtleneck, black vest, black heeled boots, and a long black leather trench coat. There was a black leather hat sitting atop her loosely hanging curls. Around her neck was a Romanian-style cross on a black velvet choker. On her left ring finger was a gold band in which was set a single blood-red ruby. In each hand was a short sword, and a gun sat in its holster on her right hip.

"Oh my god," I whispered in awe.

Michelle winced in pain, and slid her swords into their scabbards before pulling up her right sleeve. On her forearm was a red-hot brand of a winged dragon.

"What did I _do_?" she asked, shocked.  
I cleared my throat and willed myself to sound normal. "Why don't you go back to your room, change, and lay down, love. What you just did took a lot of energy, and you'll begin to feel it after too long. We'll pick this up tomorrow."

Mystified but accepting of my answer, Michelle turned and walked out of the practice hall we had been standing in. When she was gone, I shakily walked out in the other direction, and went as fast as discretion deemed appropriate to my office. I headed straight to my desk and scrawled off a quick missive, then attatched it to the leg of one of my messenger doves. I held the bird in my hand for a moment, muttering an incantation that turned the crest between the crature's eyes red, indicating that the message was urgent. I opened the window and sent the bird off, then sat in my wingback armchair shakily, staring at nothing, my message running through my head over and over again until the words had lost all meaning, but the message remained.

_The Defender has returned.  
__It will begin again. Make ready._


	5. V

**Author's Note**: I enjoy this chapter for two reasons. Number One: Gabe's misplaced temper and complete obtuseness. Number Two: Impediment in the form of James Blake. I do hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer**: I've gotten a question or three about this, so I'm gonna say this upfront. I want the audience to know more about what's going on than the characters (particularly in regard to Michelle's identity and destiny). That sets up the irony in certain situations that happen later on in this story. Any other similarities you see to the plot or relationships in Princess/Angel are probably intentional (but as always, feel free to message me with any questions).

**Disclaimer a deux**: I mention two characters named Sam and Emily during Gabe's conversation with Jack. That's my unneccessary homage to the Twilight series. I couldn't help myself. So- I don't own Sam and Emily, please don't sic Stephenie Meyer on me.

* * *

:: Gabe's POV ::

After two months of training, Svetlana decided that Annie and Michelle had received enough training to be sent back to London. They were given new laptops that would keep them connected with the Order, new cell phones so they could be reached at a moment's notice, enough black clothing and weaponry that they could set up shop as assassins, and unlimited bank accounts. Svetlana and I had promised to come check on them once a month.

Only two days after Annie called to tell me that they had gotten home safely, disaster struck.

I woke up at 2 am to the smell of smoke. I raced outside, following my canine sense of smell, to find that the Basilica was surrounded by a ring of fire. It was clear, from the way the fire had been set, that this had been a deliberate attack on the Order. As holy men and women and other Knights raced about trying to douse the flames, I sprinted through the Basilica, looking for Svetlana.

I found her in my favorite garden, her hands outstretched over a small burning fire. Water poured from her open palms as she chanted in Romanian, but the water turned to steam before it touched the fire.

As I looked at the fire, I realized that the flames hadn't been set in a random pattern. There was a definite shape to the fire, and I recognized it with a sinking heart. It had been over a century, but I would recognize the winged dragon seal of the Draculia family anywhere.

"Dracula," I breathed. "He's back?!"  
"No, Gabrael," Svetlana said, her voice even and trance-like. "Not the demon prince. A pretender, a successor. One who wants to take over where the son of the Devil left off." Her eyes snapped open, and she spoke more urgently. "You must go to London, Gabrael. Whoever this is, he wants-"  
"Annie," I breathed, before taking off.

Behind me, Svetlana's eyes narrowed, and she sighed. "No, Van Helsing. Not the reincarnation of Anna Valerious. The one in danger is the Daughter of the Castragonis. If you are so blinded by this former love that you cannot see the present clearly, then I cannot trust you to fulfill this mission alone."

* * *

I got to London as quickly as I could, but even as I ran down the street toward Annie and Michelle's apartment, I knew I was too late. The scent of the London pack was all over the girls' block, as well as the foreign smell of interlopers. There was blood, and sweat, and fear in the air. My heart in my throat, I sprinted up the fire escape stairs in the back of the building, and jumped through the open window.

The apartment was in shambles. Furniture was overturned, books and papers were scattered everywhere, there were dents and holes in the wall. The scent of the foreign lycans was strong in here. Carved into the wall was the winged dragon.

Annie was nowhere to be seen.

"Annie?!" I called, fear in my voice.  
"She's gone."

I whipped around to see a tall, lean but muscular man walking in from the kitchen. His dark brown hair flopped in his equally dark, intense eyes. I knew him at once as another lycan, and relaxed my stance. In the same moment, I knew that he held a high position in his pack, most likely the Beta. I did my best to look as non-threatening as a rogue lycan can be.

"Brother," I murmured, inclining my head.

He returned the gesture, then walked past me to the couch, where I finally noticed Michelle was laying limply.

"Who are you, stranger?" he asked, applying a cool, wet washcloth to Michelle's forehead.  
"My name is Gabe," I replied. "You must be Jack." He nodded in affirmation, his attention riveted on Michelle's face. "What happened here?"  
"A foreign pack of about 25 infiltrated the city three hours ago," Jack replied, busying himself with tending to Michelle's cuts and bruises. "We thought they were just interlopers traveling through, but we knew we were wrong when they made formation about a mile from here and started closing in on this block."  
"They were looking for Annie," I stated.  
"No," Jack immediately said. "There is no reason for mainland European lycans to want Annie. They wanted Michelle."  
"Why?" I asked.  
"Her gypsy magic," Jack answered, as if it were obvious. "Michelle de Angeli is well known in the supernatural community, even beyond the boundaries of the United Kingdom. There are many who would have motive to come after the last princess of the Castragoni gypsies."  
I folded my arms. "If they wanted Michelle, why did they kidnap Annie?"  
"I would do it to lure Michelle to wherever I wanted her," Jack said.

It was those words, in addition to the way Jack was looking at Michelle, that made me realize exactly why the London pack was keeping such a careful eye on her.

"You want her for your mate," I said.  
Jack didn't look at me as he replied. "The Alpha of our pack was killed in the fight tonight, brother, and with Sam his queen, Emily. I'll be accepted as the next Alpha, but the she-lycans won't follow me unless I have a queen."  
"It's not just politics," I insisted, a bitter flame igniting in my heart.  
"No," he said.

I folded my arms tighter, completely surprised by the fire eating me alive. I'd not felt this for 121 years, not since the moment I saw Raphael de Lioncourt by Mikael's side in Dracula's summer palace, but I knew this emotion. Why I should feel jealous that Jack wanted to make Michelle a lycan and his queen, I didn't know. Maybe I just objected to men transforming the women under my protection into monsters?

"Why are you here, brother?" Jack asked, looking up at me, the Alpha in his nature coming forward.  
I held my ground, though I unfolded my arms to look less aggressive. "You noticed that Annie and Michelle were gone for two months, I take it."  
"Of course," Jack said. "Sam learned through our allies and contacts that they were in Rome."  
I nodded. "They were there with me and my organization. The Knights of the Holy Order."  
Jack's eyes widened in recognition. "They are both agents of the Order now?" I nodded. "Then it can be assumed that whoever ordered this attack is an enemy to the Order."  
"It's a good guess," I nodded. "I need to bring Michelle back to Rome."  
"She'll be safe here," he said immediately.  
"I know she would be," I said. "But the leader of my order, Svetlana Rosteria, ordered me to come here and bring the girls to Rome. If Annie's been kidnapped, it's even more important that Michelle be somewhere where this foreign pack can't get to her."

Jack looked down at Michelle for a moment, considering. Then he looked up and nodded.

"Alright. I'll go organize my pack. If you need any help from here, contact us."

I nodded and picked up Michelle's prone body, then left quickly. As I ran down the street with her, I noticed a dark smudge on her arm. Shifting her so I supported her weight with one arm, I picked up her right arm… and then stopped dead in my tracks, fire in my eyes and ice coating my heart.

Branded on her arm, in the exact same spot Mikael's tattoo had been, was the winged dragon of the Draculias.

I snarled low in my throat, then stopped in a nearby alley where I smelled some rope. I bound Michelle quickly, then slung her over my shoulder as I stalked through the back ways I knew so well to get back to the airport.

If Michelle was connected to this apparent successor of Dracula… I didn't care if Svetlana adored her, I would rip her to pieces. I had lost too much to Dracula already. I would be damned if Michelle took something else away from me.


	6. VI

**Author's Note**: Gabrael is a beast in this chapter. And I don't mean that in a good way. He loses his temper in a completely out-of-character fashion, which has far-reaching consequences for the remainder of the story. Shocking, I suppose, to see Gabrael act so evil, but there you go. Enjoy the lycan rage!

* * *

:: Michelle's POV ::  
When I came to, I was bound head to toe, and in the trunk of a car.

"Oh my God," I whispered.

Had I been kidnapped too? My thoughts flew to my best friend, and worry momentarily crowded out my fear. I knew that no matter what, Annie could take care of herself, but that didn't ease my anxiety for her safety.

Last night had been the full moon. Jack had just checked in with us earlier that night, had promised that he and the pack would be close by. When I asked why, he had said that there was another pack in London, but that he didn't really expect much trouble.

Then five huge men- gypsies, all- had broken into our apartment. We had tried to fight back, using everything Svetlana and the other Knights had taught us- destroying our apartment in the process. But it quickly became clear from the way these men fought that they were lycans, and that there was no way we could win.

Of course, Annie being Annie, she had asked, "What the fuck do you think you're doing here? If you think you're gonna get your filthy paws on Michelle, you got another think coming."

The leader of the pack had done nothing but laugh. He hit her so hard that she had passed out instantly. When I tried to rush forward, I was hit. Just before I passed out, I saw the lycans sprint out of the apartment, Annie in tow.

The car's sharp turn slammed me into the wall of the trunk, refocusing me on the present. I tried to control my panic, but it was hard; I'm pretty claustrophobic. I closed my eyes and focused on making my breathing deep and even, and tried to imagine that I was laying in a wide open field, that the ropes weren't cutting into my skin and stopping circulation.

When that didn't work, I started kicking the hood of the trunk, trying to wriggle my way around so I could disable the tail lights, screaming, anything. It didn't do jack, but it made me feel better.

After an eternity, the car stopped. A moment later, the hood of the trunk popped open. I winced and blinked rapidly into the sunlight, then shrunk away from the sight before me. Gabe stared at me, absolute anger and hatred in his eyes. He grabbed me and jerked me into a sitting position, then flung me over his shoulder again before storming into the Basilica.

I kept silent, knowing better than to aggravate a lycan's anger this soon after a full moon, but I was terrified. I couldn't imagine what I had done to incur his wrath, unless it was my failure to protect Annie. But how could he blame me for that? Did he think I treated her kidnapping with any less severity than he did? What was wrong with him?

He said not a word to me as he stormed through the hallways. I closed my eyes, preferring not to see the people who passed us, and stared at us in shock. I kept track of the turns Gabe made, guessing that he was taking me down to the factory chamber. The clang of metals and hum of activity told me that I was right. I grunted as Gabe unceremoniously dumped me on the floor; that was gonna bruise…

"GABE VON LYCANIUS!"

I winced when I heard Svetlana's furious voice. When I cautiously opened my eyes, I was greeted to the sight of the gypsy standing before us, hands on her hips, shaking with anger.

"What do you think you're doing?!" she asked, jabbing a finger in my direction.  
"I think she had something to do with Annie's kidnapping," Gabe said coldly.  
"WHAT?!" Svetlana and I bellowed at the same time.

Gabe knelt and flipped open a pocket knife. I shrank away, glaring, but he grabbed my wrists and cut the rope. He grabbed my wrist, squeezing harder when I inhaled sharply in pain and smirking wolfishly at my distress. He flipped my arm over and pointed to my forearm, where my winged dragon brand could be clearly seen.

"She's in league with whoever is trying to take over Dracula's throne!" he exclaimed. "The seal was drawn in fire here. It was carved into the wall of her apartment. It's branded on her-"  
"GABRAEL!!" Svetlana bellowed.

There was a sonic BOOM as Svetlana unleashed her power, and Gabe was hurled away from me. Svetlana walked forward so she was standing before me. I curled in on myself, determinedly looking at the flagged stone floor so I wouldn't rip Gabe to doggie-treat-sized pieces, and gingerly rubbed my wrists, which were chaffed and in some places bleeding from the rough rope Gabe had tied me up with.

"What will it take for you to understand that Michelle is the target of these attacks?" Svetlana asked in a furious voice. "That she is the victim here, not the perpetrator? Whoever this is, he wants Michelle, not Annie!"  
"Then why was Annie the one kidnapped?!" Gabe yelled back.  
"GABRAEL, LISTEN TO ME!!!" Svetlana yelled. "Yes, Michelle is involved in Annie's disappearance, but not in the way you believe. Someone is targeting Michelle because she is the scion of the Castragonis and the Valerious. She is the last of the royal family, the most powerful of all the gypsies. Either this pretender to the demon prince's throne wants her dead, or he wants her to rule beside him, _as happened with the last Valerious princess_."

I didn't understand why Svetlana spat out the last part of that sentence with such pointed fury, why Gabe flinched at the mention of the last Valerious princess; I was merely grateful that Svetlana's words were easing his anger.

"Where is he, Svetlana?" I asked, trying to gain some level of composure. "Wherever he is, that's where Annie's gotta be."  
"Where else would a successor to Count Dracula reside, but in the place where Dracula's power originates?" Svetlana said heavily. "We believe he is in Valeria, a town in Transylvania, the ancient stronghold of Vladislaus Draculia and his daughter Mikael."

Gabe groaned low in his throat and turned away, trembling with anger or some other powerful emotion that looked oddly like pain. I stood shakily, still holding my broken, bleeding wrists.

"Then that's where I'm going," I said.  
"Gabe will go with you," Svetlana said.  
"No," I snapped. "No. Annie is mine to protect, and this pretender is mine to deal with."  
"You cannot go unprotected," Svetlana protested.  
"I'll call Jack," I said promptly. "He'll protect me."  
"Of course he would," Gabe spat at me. "Because you've bewitched him, made him think he wants you for his queen. What's your plan, Michelle, use your magic to enslave the lycans and resurrect Dracula?"

I turned away from him, refusing to dignify his insults with a response. I forced my face to composure, tried to pretend that what he'd said hadn't hurt me.

What he'd said about Jack tore through me. I knew as surely as I knew my name that I had done nothing to enslave Jack to my will, done nothing to muddle his senses. But what Gabe had said about Jack wanting me for his lycan queen… it gave me pause. I'd always loved Jack as my dearest and closest male friend, but… to be his queen? To surrender my humanity and become a lycan? Once upon a time I had fancied myself in love with Jack, but I had never thought to become his wife. Could that happen? And if it did, was that what I wanted?

Svetlana shook her head. "You need a guide who is familiar with that part of Romania. For better or worse, no one knows Transylvania better than Gabe."

I gritted my teeth and turned on my heel, refusing to look at him now that my anger had kicked back up. I wanted nothing to do with the arrogant bastard.

As I walked away, I got the oddest feeling that there was something I was missing, something I needed. Furrowing my brow, I started walking through the halls, feeling like I was being pulled towards something.

My walk ended before a blank wall. I rolled my eyes in irritation with myself, but couldn't make myself leave. Upon closer inspection of the wall, I realized that part of the stonework was wrong, as if a section had been added later, to cover something. I walked up to the wall curiously, running my hand across the stone. The second I made contact with the wall, my vision fogged over and I catapaulted to the past.

_"Are you sure we should be doing this?" asked a small, skittish monk as he fitted another block of stone into place before a plain wooden door._

_The other man, taller and darker in countenance, stared at the blond friar. "We faced down Dracula a month ago, broke a dozen rules and at least three Commandments while doing it, and lived to tell about it… and you're still worried about authority?"  
__"Oh, shut up," the monk muttered. "The Cardinal can be worse than a vampyre."_

_The tall dark man laughed darkly, then went back to bricking over the door._

_The monk glanced at the door. "She wouldn't be happy if she could see us bricking all her things up-"  
__"She's not here, Carl," the tall man said harshly. "She's never coming back. So it really doesn't matter if she would be happy or not."_

I pulled away from the wall, more shocked and curious than before. Why had Gabe bricked over this room? Who was the monk? And who was this female who had made Gabe so very angry?

I closed my eyes and held up my hand, focusing. On my silent command, the stone cracked and pulverized itself into dust, revealing the door I had seen in my vision. I stepped up to it and turned the antique brass knob, then stepped into the room.

I nearly went weak in the knees as I was flooded with a sense of déjà vu. The scent of the air, the colors I could make out in the dim light from the hallway, the placement of the furniture… I knew this room.

Sitting in the middle of the floor was a small trunk. Pursing my lips, I walked towards it, and silently commanded the lock to unlock itself. The trunk's lid flew open a moment later, and I kneeled down to see what it was I had been called here to find.

They were clothes. More specifically, they were clothes that I had summoned to me when training with Svetlana. Everything was here, even the swords, gun, and jewelry.

"How did these get here?" I asked softly, furrowing my brow.

I fingered all of my clothes, then burrowed through the trunk until I found my cross pendant and ruby ring. I put them on quickly, then grabbed the trench, vest, and boots. They'd be good to have with me, if only to help me feel more confident as we went out to face only God knew what.

* * *

:: Gabe's POV ::

After I'd finished dressing in a black long-sleeved shirt, black jeans, trench, and of course combat boots, I walked back down to the main chamber of the Order. Once upon a time, whenever Mikael and I went out on a job, she would consult one of the prophets- an Oracle, the Pythia, maybe a mudang. The only time she hadn't done it was the disastrous trip to Transylvania. Call me superstitious, but ever since then, any time I go out on a job, I consult one of the prophets.

For this trip, and considering who was involved, it only felt appropriate to go talk to the ancient gypsy seer. Her name was Diana, and she was over 100 years old. She was almost as tiny as a child in her ancient age, her skin nothing more than wrinkles, but there was a dignity and authority to her that surpassed even Svetlana's.

I walked into the tent that Svetlana had ordered constructed for her, sat on the pillows and carpets that padded the floor, and waited, breathing in the heavy incense. After a few moments, Diana tottered out, draped in warm shawls and leaning heavily on her cane. Her blue eyes were clouded with blindness, but all of her other senses were as clear as ever.

"Ah, Van Helsing," she crooned in her low, gravelly voice. "You are leaving again."  
"I'm going to Transylvania," I said, helping Diana to her couch.  
Diana's head jerked up as her blind eyes sought my face. "Transylvania?"  
"Yes," I said, sitting back down. "To Valeria. Someone is trying to ascend to Dracula's throne."

Diana shrieked and began rocking back and forth, chanting in Romanian and wringing her monkey-like hands.

"Diana, what do I do?" I asked. "What do I need to know?"  
Her words came almost too quickly for her to enunciate them, and she repeated herself over and over again. "_Find the first treasure. Awaken the Defender. Call the Light back from the Darkness into which it has been plunged. Find the first treasure. Awaken the Defender. Call the Light back from the Darkness into which it has been plunged…_"

I left the tent quickly, unsettled. I caught the eye of one of Diana's attendants and inclined my head back towards the tent. The young girl jumped up and ran into the tent to care for the ancient prophet while I walked away, trying to understand what Diana had told me.


	7. VII

:: Michelle's POV ::

We could have traveled to Romania via plane, and been there in a matter of hours. Instead, Svetlana had arranged for us to travel by train. By locomotion, it would take us about a week to travel from Rome to Bucharest. From Bucharest, we would travel by horse-drawn carriage to Valeria, the ancient stronghold of Count Dracula. Gabe's and my protestations had fallen on deaf ears; Svetlana had merely insisted that we travel this way.

At least the train was comfortable. After the engine and coal car, there was a dining room, a mini armory, one boxcar that served as a library, one car that was arranged as a sitting room, then one car that served as our quarters [I had one half of the car, Gabe had the other]. The arrangement of the train made it very easy for us to avoid each other. I spent most of my time in my quarters, cloistered in with mounds of books, while Gabe sat in the living room car and watched TV.

I read absolutely everything I could find about vampires, Dracula, the history of Transylvania, and the reports of the local Order Knights. In other words, I read every book and document in that library. I wanted to be as prepared as I possibly could be, because I got the feeling that Gabe would not be tolerant of mistakes or ignorance on my part.

One day, I curled up on the chaise longue that served as my bed, pulled the covers around me in a sort of nest, and pulled out my cell phone. I waited impatiently as the phone rang.

"Hello?"  
I smiled to myself as Jack's warm, caring voice filled my ear. "Hey, Romulus."

I had nicknamed Jack Romulus when he revealed to me what he was. He, in return, called me Esmerelda, because I'm a gypsy and because he's watched too many Disney movies.

"Esmerelda! Where are you?" Jack asked, instantly going into worried mode.  
"Chillax," I laughed. "I'm in Romania."  
"Chillax," he said blankly. "You're going to one of the most dangerous places in the world, supernaturally speaking, and you're telling me to _chillax_?"  
"Yeah," I nodded. "I'm with Gabe, I'll be fine."  
"That doesn't do anything to help me stop worrying," he muttered. "I don't trust him."  
I sighed. "Honestly? Neither do I. He hates me, Jack. He blames me for what happened to Annie. Which I guess is kinda true, but… Does he think I don't blame myself? I'm worried sick about her, and he's not helping anything. He treats me like a pariah."  
"That's his loss, then," Jack said soothingly. "If he bothers you that much, you could always leave."  
"You know I can't," I said immediately. "I'm not leaving without Annie. So I'll have to put up with him, I guess."  
"Alright," he said. "But you shouldn't blame yourself for Annie getting kidnapped."  
"How could I not?" I asked. "If not for me, this would never happened."  
"Michelle, you can't change who you are," he said. "You can't change your blood, and you know you don't really want to. Annie will be fine, I promise you. And don't waste any of your energy worrying about Von Lycanius. If he wants to be an ass, let him. You're better than that. Just focus on finding Annie."  
I smiled faintly. "What would I do without you, Jack?"  
"Oh, you'd be dead," he deadpanned.  
I laughed. "I know it."  
"Damn, Daniel's calling me," he muttered. "Probably another emergency, like a shortage of raw meat at the butcher's." We shared a laugh at the expense of Jack's spastic, worrywart Beta, Daniel. "I have to go, love. Keep me updated, alright? And let me know if there's anything the pack can do."  
"Thank you, Jack," I said gratefully.

I bit my lip thoughtfully as I shut my phone. Possibilities of what my relationship with Jack could evolve into flittered through my head. To be Jack's wife, and the lycan queen of London…

But those ruminations were constantly interrupted by thoughts and irritations caused by the person I was sharing the train with.

That arrogant jerk! He wasn't making this trip any easier on me. Anytime he saw me, a dark loathing would come into his eyes. He avoided me as much as possible, and was brusque and reticent if we were forced together. It infuriated me almost as much as it bothered me. I had done nothing to deserve his hatred, but he made me feel incredibly guilty every time I saw him.

The deeper we got into Romania, the more flashes of déjà vu I got. It felt as though I had already read all of these books, that I had seen the Romanian countryside before. Almost as though I were repeating a trip from my childhood. It was disconcerting, feeling as though I was reliving a trip I couldn't quite recall.

The one time I had broached the subject to Gabe, he had brusquely postulated that perhaps I had the gift of picking up on residual energies. Meaning, I could almost see the memories an object or a place could hold. Maybe that was why I felt like I already knew what the books would say, why I felt like I knew what I was looking for any time I opened the pages. Maybe that was why I felt so familiar with the countryside, because I could read its energy.

I had heard of this gift before- there wasn't much about the paranormal world I hadn't at least heard of, thanks to owning an occult shop- and it seemed like a logical explanation. So I accepted it, brushing off the strange memories I kept seeing as nothing more than old energy.

Surely the dreams I kept having, about traveling through the Romanian countryside on horseback with Gabe and a small, fumbling blond friar had to be just that- dreams, a by-product of this new gift of mine. I had to just be seeing the energy from his last trip to Transylvania. Never mind if it seemed that that trip seemed to have taken place in the late 1800s… that part must just have been my mind playing tricks on me.

We arrived in Bucharest on a cold, overcast day. Gabe led me out of the train and towards our carriage. I followed him closely, wrinkling my nose.

"Lovely weather," I muttered.  
Gabe shrugged. "Welcome to Romania. This is pretty typical. Just be thankful it's not snowing- or worse, raining."

The carriage was spacious, and warm, piled high with pillows and blankets to ease the jarring and bumping of the unpaved road. But it was far too small to avoid Gabe- he was only four feet away from me. I curled up on my seat and padded myself with pillows, pulled a warm blanket around myself, and opened a thick book, determined to ignore him.

It was a book about Dracula, of course. But it wasn't one of the gothic romances, or some crackpot conspiracy theory book. It had been written by a friar, Carl, a member of the Order over a century ago. And instead of focusing on the tired old mythology, this friar had gone into what was known of the figure behind the myth- Prince Vladislaus Draculia.

What was more interesting to me, though, was Carl's inclusion of Vlad's daughter, Princess Mikael. I had never heard of her before now, and even in the other books I had read on the trip, there had only been passing mentions of her. But this friar had gone into detail about her life, stating that she too had become a vampyre. I had no idea where he had gotten his information, but the story was fascinating, and I was riveted by the tale he told.

Only, my eyes kept straying from the words over the top of the book. I would catch myself every time, and would turn again to reading, but it wouldn't be too long before I found myself looking at him again.

I was irritated with myself; why should Gabe Von Lycanius be such an object of fascination for me? Sure, he was handsome, and yes, I felt like I knew him from some other place and time. But he obviously didn't like me or trust me, and I felt no especial warmth toward him, either. So why should I be so interested in him? Especially when he was my best friend's boyfriend?

He happened to glance at me once, and caught me looking at him. I'd blushed furiously, and firmly looked down at the book again. After that, I had forced myself not to look at him once, no matter how much I wanted to. I had focused all of my attention on Dracula and his mysterious daughter, and refused to so much as think of Gabe's name.

* * *

:: Gabe's POV ::

I watched Michelle for the week it took us to travel to Romania. I was very careful to make sure she didn't see me, but I kept a very close eye on her.

As if she sensed my gaze, she was exceptionally uninteresting to watch. All she did was read. She pored over every single bit of reading material the holy men and women had loaded onto our train.

Soon, though, I found all that reading to be fascinating. I grew incredibly familiar with the crease in her brows as she concentrated on what she was doing, the way her lips pursed when she was confused, how she curled up in a tight ball when she was engrossed in the reading. Against my will, I was impressed with how thorough she was being in her preparation for this mission. She was determined to give it her all, and I respected that.

When I wasn't stalking Michelle in a creepy manner, I poured my energies into trying to figure out the prophecy Diana had uttered.

_Find the first treasure. Awaken the Defender. Call the Light back from the Darkness into which it has been plunged._

_Find the first treasure_… What could that mean? The lost treasure of the ark of the covenant? Return to Eden? Whose first treasure was I supposed to find? Mine? The Order's?

_Awaken the Defender_… This was the only thing that made any sense to me at all. Obviously, the Defender had to be Mikael. But this was the most impossible step of all. Mikael was dead; she couldn't be awoken. She hadn't reincarnated, as Anna had. There was no way to get her back. So how was I supposed to awaken her?

_Call the Light back from the Darkness into which it has been plunged_… Could this also refer to Mikael? She had once, as part of her angelic title, been called the Princess of Light. And the limbo she was trapped in could be called a type of darkness…

Was the whole prophecy about awakening Mikael? And if so, how was I supposed to accomplish that? Why had Diana advised doing the impossible?

* * *

Valeria was a town that hadn't changed in at least the last 566 years. It was exactly as I remembered it from when Mikael and I lived here in the 1400s, and it was exactly the same as it had been when we returned in 1887. As Michelle and I walked through the gate and into the town square, I wasn't at all surprised to see the villagers closing in around us. I half expected to hear Carl start whimpering from behind me.

_"What are we doing here? Why is it so important to kill this Dracula anyway?"  
__"Because he's the son of the devil," answered a ghost of a voice laced with a Transylvanian accent and dripping with sarcasm.  
__"I mean besides that."  
__"Because if we kill him, anything bitten by him or created by him will also die," my own voice said.  
__"I mean besides __that__."_

I shook my head to clear it of the memories. This was 2008, not 1887. Carl and Mikael weren't with me, and I wasn't about to run into Anna or Dracula's brides. I was here with Michelle de Angeli, and we were here to find Annie. That was it. There would be no showdown with an evil vampyric king, no betrayals by myself or my partner, no turning into monsters and enemies.

"Can we help you, strangers?"

I turned upon hearing the words, to see an elderly man dressed warmly walking forwards.

"Directions? A place to stay, perhaps?" He took off his hat and gave us a small bow. "I am Andre Bezarin, mayor of Valeria-"

He cut off upon seeing the guns and stakes strapped around my waist, and the antique crossbow I carried on my shoulder (it hadn't felt right to come back to Valeria without it). His eyes widened, and he took a step back.

"You're slayers," he said in sudden understanding.  
"We've come from the Knights of the Holy Order, in Rome," I said.  
"No one from the Order has come here since 1887," Andre said, trembling.  
"I know," I replied. "Gabrael Van Helsing and Mikael Valerious."  
"Mikael Draculia," he immediately corrected me.  
"Mikael Van Helsing," I said in a strained voice, as a compromise.

Andre nodded, accepting that name. Beside me, Michelle watched the exchange, her brow furrowed. Her gray eyes were dark and cloudy with thoughts unintelligible to me, but I didn't have the time to decipher them now.

"You are most welcome to Valeria, then," Andre said. "Mr…?"  
"Gabe Von Lycanius," I said.

I knew as soon as I said the name that these people, the direct descendants of the people I had met the last time around, would see through that alias in a second. Sure enough, they started muttering to themselves, repeating the old stories to each other, and figuring out who I actually was.

Andre nodded, too much a politician and polite host to call me out now. "And you are?" he asked Michelle.  
"Michelle de Angeli," she replied, the barest hint of her gypsy accent slipping into her voice.

If people had been surprised when I stated my name, Michelle shocked them into silence. Even Andre stared at her in absolute shock for a long minute.

"The… The daughter of the Valerious," he breathed, taking a step back. "The child of the Castragonis. The descendant of our sainted Valerious the Elder himself. You… you are most welcomed, my lady."

He bowed to Michelle, and was followed a second later by every person in the square. Michelle's glance darted around to all of them, not fully understanding what was happening.

"Please, this isn't necessary," she said shakily.  
"On the contrary, my lady," Andre said, straightening from his bow. "You are the High Princess of all Romanian gypsies. The rightful ruler of Transylvania. Our promised defender. If you are here, then that means that our deliverance from evil is at hand."

We had no time to answer him before there was a loud screech. Michelle and I looked up to see a figure I had hoped to never see again- an advancing vampyre.

"Everbody inside!!" Andre bellowed.  
"Anya! It's Anya!" one of the villagers screamed.

I didn't have to question who Anya was, or to look at Michelle; we just went into action. I grabbed my crossbow; Michelle pulled out her favorite gun, which she had named The Samaritan, and loaded it with bullets she'd made herself- white ash, cloves of garlic, silver shavings, holy water (she's watched way too much _Hellboy_).

The vampyre swooped down into the town square, and Michelle and I opened fire. She nimbly dodged our missiles, soaring higher into the air. Michelle snarled and threw down her gun, instead holding her hands up.

"What are you doing?" I asked.  
"Just be ready to shoot," she growled.

She closed her eyes and began to chant. My eyes widened as I realized what she was doing; funnelling the winds, drawing Anya into my range. I readied my crossbow, bracing myself against the winds that were picking up in intensity.

Anya tried to fight against the winds, but was inevitably caught up in them, and drawn towards us. I saw the fury in her eyes as she tried to fight Michelle's magic, but she was powerless. So instead, she went with the winds, streamlining herself. I saw her intent; she meant to find a way to distract Michelle, to buy herself a few seconds to fight back.

Michelle opened her eyes and looked up at Anya. Then she caught sight of a poor child who had been left outside. A quick glance at Anya confirmed that the vampyre had smelled the child. Michelle growled and dove for the little boy, using her body to block him from Anya's onslaught.

Michelle screamed as Anya dug her teeth into her neck, but then it was Anya who was screaming. Michelle fell to the ground heavily, panting and holding her neck, then stared up at Anya, whose lips and gums had burned away, leaving only yellowed, brittle teeth. She snarled at Michelle, fury in her eyes. Michelle lay there, frozen, helpless under the vampyre's trance. I grabbed a stake and sprinted to help her.

Anya whirled around and grabbed my arm at the last moment. We contended with each other, pitting our superhuman strength against each other. Anya sniffed the air, then snarled.

"Werewolf," she growled. "My master will be most interested to meet you."

She backhanded me, then soared off before I could regain my balance. I watched her fly away, then squatted down to look over Michelle's injuries. She lay very still, panting in pain, but it wasn't the ugly wound on her neck that had me frozen in shock.

Her blood was black.

_We changed form one last time as the clock struck midnight. I charged the vampyre king and ripped his throat out. Dracula screamed in hatred, glaring up at me as he died, black blood oozing out of his neck…_

_Mikael fell into my chest, crying out in pain. A silver stake- one which had been meant for me- stuck out of her back, directly where her heart was located. Black blood oozed out of the wound and trickled down her back and chest as her skin turned to ash around the stake. A lone tear of pain fell from her silver eyes as she looked up at me, her vision fogging over with death…_

My mind snapped out of the memories as Andre clapped my shoulder, staring at Michelle in shock.

"Call for the doctor!" he called to the townsfolk. "We will bring her to the Manor."

Mindlessly, I picked the unconscious Michelle up, and followed Andre as he walked through town. I knew exactly where we were going, recognized this path as if I had only walked it yesterday, but I had no strength to protest as he led me to the Valerious Manor.

I had never intended to get so ensnared by that cursed family again…


	8. VIII

**Author's Note**: This is the Big Long Chapter Of Exposition. I invented some backstory, especially to explain how Gabrael ended up at the Basilica back in the 1880s in the first place. Hopefully you'll find my explanations plausible, and as always, enjoy!

Oh, and I hope you recognize the beginning of Michelle's POV. I purposefully used almost exactly the same wording as I did in ch. 1 of P/A- just to increase the amount of déjà vu I want the story to contain.

* * *

:: Gabe's POV ::

I sat by Michelle's bedside, as I had for the past 48 hours, watching over her. The village doctor had said that she was lucky she hadn't bled to death; Anya's snap had torn Michelle's artery. I considered it a miracle that she was still alive, and that she hadn't been infected by vampyre venom.

The doctor had given Michelle a large dose of painkillers, both to keep her from being in pain and to keep her asleep so her body would have a chance to heal. And I had sat here, guarding over her.

The longer I sat, the guiltier I felt. I had treated Michelle horribly, and she was the very person I was supposed to protect. She had been nothing but helpful to me, and I had treated her as if she were the scum of the earth.

I swore when she woke up that I would make amends. I would suppress the anger I felt about Annie's kidnapping, and my fear for her safety, and my suspicion about Michelle's involvement with the Draculia family, and the nagging sense of déjà vu that made Michelle seem so very like Mikael, and I would simply focus on getting Michelle and myself through this ordeal alive.

* * *

:: Michelle's POV ::

Slowly, I cracked open my eyelids, wincing as my pupils were flooded with bright light. At the same time, my body woke up, virtually every part of me screaming in some sort of pain, though my neck hurt the worst. I blinked a few times and drew deep, steady breaths, adjusting to the light and the pain. When I felt able, I opened my eyes fully again to take in my surroundings. I tried to sit up, but my neck was killing me any time I so much as attempted to move. I lowered myself back onto the pillow, wincing.

The room was small, and sparsely decorated. It didn't need paint or decoration; the furniture was beautiful enough to stand as art in its own right. It was all made of dark wood, intricately carved. There was a huge armoire, a vanity table with an oval mirror, a low-lying couch, and the large four-poster canopy bed. The fabrics in the room were all shades of red, which warmed the feel of the room.

I glanced back at the couch, were Gabe lay dozing. I furrowed my brow; why was he bothering? We hated each other, why would he care how I was?

As I watched, he stirred, almost as if he sensed that I was awake. He groaned and sat up, cracking his back in the process, then saw me.

"You're awake," he said.  
"Brilliant observation, Sherlock," I replied, wincing as I tried to breathe.  
"How are you feeling?" he asked, moving to sit beside me.  
"Sore," I replied.  
"Do you remember what happened?" he asked, looking me over.  
"Yeah," I said. "Became a vampyre's chew toy."

His laugh was short and bitter, but at least he laughed. I bit my lip.

"I'm not going to become a vampyre now, am I?" I asked.  
"No," Gabe said, shaking his head. "The doctor had a gypsy come and check you; she said you weren't… infected."

His gaze turned dark and introspective. I sat quietly, waiting for the momentary bad mood to pass.

"How long have I been out?" I asked.  
"Two days," he replied. "We're lucky it wasn't longer; Anya's teeth nearly snapped your artery in half."

I folded my arms and scowled, unhappy that I had been out of action for that long. Who knew what could have happened to Annie in two days? Assuming, of course, that she was still alive… I cut off that train of thought resolutely, refusing to even articulate the thought that Annie could be dead. She was alive. She was.

"Have you found anything else out about this new vampyre lord?" I asked.  
Gabe shook his head, leaning forward. "The villagers aren't very helpful. They won't talk about anything. Doesn't surprise me, really; they weren't good for much the last time around, either."  
I tilted my head curiously. "How many times have you been here?"  
"This is the third time," he said, his gaze going dark again, though he didn't appear angry.  
"How long have you worked for the Order?" I asked, taking advantage of his unusually talkative mood.  
"Too long," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "Why do you ask?"  
I shrugged. "I'm just curious. Annie's only told me that you knew each other in a past life."  
Gabe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "If I told you the whole story… I wonder what your reaction would be…"  
"Only one way to find out," I replied.  
He looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright… do you think you can handle food?"  
"Food? No," I said. "Maybe some tea."

Gabe nodded, then stood and rang the bell. A moment later, a woman came to the door. Gabe quietly asked her for a large pot of Darjeeling tea, which was brought within five minutes. He insisted on pouring me a cup himself, and fixing it for me. When I was settled, he leaned forward, and began to speak.

"I'm not human, Michelle," he said seriously.  
"I know that," I replied.  
"No, I mean… I wasn't human before I became a lycan," he said.  
I furrowed my brow. "Then… what are you?"  
He took a deep breath. "I'm the Archangel Gabrael."

I concentrated very hard on placing my teacup back on the tray before staring at him in shock for I don't even know how long. An angel? Let alone an Archangel?

"How?" I asked weakly, my voice barely working.  
Gabe- Gabrael- took a deep breath. "God sent me, and the Archangel Mikael, to cast Adam and Eve out of Eden. We took pity on them, and returned to Heaven to ask God if we could remain close to Earth to guard humanity. God granted our request, and clothed us in flesh so that we could protect our charges. At the same time, the Archangel Raphael saw what God had done to Adam and Eve. Raphael loved humanity more than any of us, and he was furious that God had cast them down for their disobedience. But instead of following Mikael and I, Raphael fell. His wings were cut off, and he became a prince of Hell, a servant of Satan."

I stayed silent, letting the words roll over me. It was too big for me to understand and deal with right now; I just needed the story. We sat in silence for a moment as I tried to process what I'd been told. When I felt I was ready for more, I nodded.

"The centuries rolled on," Gabrael continued. "Mikael and I formed the group that would become the Knights of the Holy Order, taught them how to defend humanity against evil. We worked very closely with them, continuing our mission. We would leave every so often, though, to keep the humans from realizing what we truly were. We would work on our own, and would only return after 40 or so years, after the people we had worked with were all dead. We would re-introduce ourselves to whoever was in charge, and would begin work with the Order once again."

My brow furrowed as the oddest sensation took over me. It was as though a fog were rolling back from my thoughts. I could almost see the scene Gabrael described, almost as if I were living the memories. Recognition niggled on the edges of my mind, but I just couldn't make the feelings concrete enough to name.

"Everything changed in the 1400s," he said. "One night, God just called us back to Heaven, and our mortal husks were destroyed. When we asked God what was wrong, He told us that He had a new mission for us. To complete it, we would have to be reincarnated in human flesh, live as humans. He told us that a clan of Romanian gypsies were in need of a defender, that evil had entered the world in a new, more potent way. Mikael volunteered to defend Transylvania, so God sent her to earth. She was reborn as Ana Mikael Ruxandra Valerious-Draculia, daughter of the man who was to become Count Dracula."

My eyes widened; Mikael Draculia, the infamous vampyre Princess of Transylvania, had been an angel?! How was that possible?

"I reincarnated as well, to remain close to her," Gabrael continued. "That's how I became Gabrael Van Helsing. We also met Raphael again- the Devil had sent him back to Earth as Raphael de Lioncourt. I killed Dracula in order to marry Mikael, and the Devil turned him into a vampyre. Raphael joined Dracula and became a vampyre as well, swearing vengeance on Mikael and me. He attacked Mikael one night when I was away; killed our daughter Alena, drank Mikael's blood. In order to save her, Dracula fed her his own blood. She couldn't become a true vampyre, because she was an angel, but she gained all the powers he had. I took her away from Transylvania. I thought everything would end."

He paused, shaking his head, and I sensed that the painful part of the story was about to begin. I felt his sorrow as if it were my own, and I wanted to reach out and embrace him, but I couldn't seem to make myself move.

"In 1881, Mikael and I were sent to Jerusalem. The Order had received word that a group of sorcerers were trying to conjure a demon onto this plane. When we got there, it was apparent that this was worse than the Order had thought- death was everywhere, disease was rampant, the air was thick with fear. We went to the hill of Golgotha, where Christ was crucified. There we found a ring of 13 humans who had been possessed by demons, opening a portal to Hell in order to let Satan onto the physical plane."

Gabrael was silent for a long moment. I didn't push him, instead trying to begin working through what he had said thus far and trying to figure out exactly why I seemed to already know this story.

"They almost succeeded," Gabrael said quietly.  
"How?!" I breathed.  
Gabrael drew a painful breath. "You've heard the story of how Mikael cast down Lucifer, right?" I nodded in confirmation. "What the myths don't tell you is that Lucifer was Mikael's and my brother. God first created Lucifer, his Morning Star. Then He created one being that He split into two- Mikael and me. So when Mikael cast down Lucifer, she was damning her own brother. She never really recovered from that. When she saw these demons raising him from Hell, it brought all those memories back, and she couldn't move. She couldn't bear to send him back to Hell again. She saw how grotesque her once-magnificent brother had become, how twisted and deformed he was. Then he looked up at her, and she saw his eyes. They alone were the same as she remembered; only those brilliant, achingly blue eyes were unchanged. He looked at her, and he said "Sister, help me." And she couldn't move."  
"What happened?" I asked, horrified.  
"There was a human tied up on an altar before the portal," Gabrael said heavily. "He was going to be offered up as a human vessel for Satan. Mikael saw him, and that spurred her into action. She couldn't bear for a human soul to be destroyed, even for the sake of her brother."

He was quiet for a moment. I didn't need him to tell me what happened next.

"I don't know what happened after that," he said. "The next thing I remember is waking up in the Basilica. My memory was completely gone. I didn't know where I was, or who I was, or what I had spent countless centuries doing. I re-joined the Order, kept on fighting monsters. But I was different."  
"Why? How?" I asked.  
"I had come very close to death," he replied slowly. "The mortal flesh I was encased in couldn't take anymore. So my human brain snapped, cut everything off, to protect itself. Immortals aren't meant to be enclosed in flesh, it strains God's creation. So if I wanted to remain close to humans, I had to give up part of my divine nature. I became more human. My link to the Divine was severed. I was still angelic, still couldn't die, but much of my nature was gone."  
"And Mikael?" I breathed.  
"She wound up at the Basilica a few years later," he replied. "She didn't remember anything, either, and I never found out where she was before she came to the Basilica. We became partners. We knew we had known each other somehow, but neither of us knew how. One day, in 1887, the head of the Order sent us to Transylvania, to deal with Dracula. That was how we learned that Mikael was his daughter, that we had been married. We learned who we truly were, what our mission was. But by then, it was too late. I had betrayed Mikael by falling in love with Anna Valerious- Annie's past incarnation; she betrayed me by marrying Raphael and becoming a vampyre. I killed Dracula. Mikael died to save me when it looked like I would have to be killed."

He bowed his head, and was silent for many a moment. Before I knew what I was doing, my hand raised and was reaching towards Gabrael, as if to comfort him. But I pulled back and let it fall on the bed; how could I, a mere human, comfort a mighty Archangel?

"I've worked with the Order ever since," he said heavily. "Only the top members know what I truly am, who I used to be."  
"Who you still are," I said before my brain had formed the words.  
He shook his head. "I'm not Van Helsing anymore. I can't be that person without her."  
My brow furrowed. "She hasn't reincarnated?"  
"No," Gabrael said. "She's in a limbo plane. It's a form of punishment, because she fell and became a creature of darkness. She forgot her purpose, so now she's stuck inbetween light and dark, Heaven and Hell."

He stood and walked away from me, but he didn't leave. I watched his back, saw how hard he was trying to keep himself under control. Finally, he turned around. He was in control, but the look his eyes were heartbreaking.

"And now it's starting again," he said. "Someone is trying to finish what Dracula started. Someone is trying to populate the world with evil. And it's up to us to stop them."

I stared at him for a moment, feeling completely inadequate to the job.

"I… I can't do this," I said faintly. "I'm only human. How can I do anything to stop this? This is way too big for me! This is a battle between Heaven and Hell! I can't help an Archangel-"  
"Svetlana thinks you can," Gabrael interrupted me. "Michelle, you possess some of the oldest and most potent magic in the world. I see that now. You could be used to summon the darkest powers of Hell- or the brightest powers of Heaven. You absolutely can stop this. Or, if you chose, you could be the catalyst for all the evil in existance."

I looked up at him, awed and feeling completely unready for what I might have to do.

"All I wanted to do was get Annie back…" I said faintly.  
A faint smile almost crossed Gabrael's face. "And instead you have to save the world. Welcome to the Order."


	9. IX

**Author's Note**: My apologies for taking so long to post. I knew I had to rewrite most of this chapter, because I didn't want to just gloss over some details, but I had no idea how to write what I wanted to. I finally figured it out, so here it is. I wish I could have posted this earlier, but of course the login had a "technical glitch." Whatever. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: The only things I own are Michelle, Annie, Jack, and now Karlos. Everything else belongs to other people until I take over the world and own it all.

* * *

:: Michelle's POV ::

It took another day to recover from the surprise vampyre attack. I didn't like how long it was taking me to heal, but both Gabrael and the village doctor told me that I was recovering remarkably quickly. When I asked why, according to them, I was healing so quickly, the doctor said it must have had something to do with my gypsy blood.

"There was a special magic in the Valerious blood," the doctor told me. "A special protection. It's said that the Valerious were protected by the angels, that there was a touch of divinity in them."

It was a lovely idea. But it wasn't very comforting, considering how almost of the Valerious had met grisly, untimely ends- especially Mikael, who had once been the angel who protected the Valerious line.

In the ensuing day, my relationship with Gabrael had done a complete turn-around. Instead of hating me, he was now protective and almost friendly. He stayed by my bedside nearly constantly, taking his meals in my room, acting as my nurse. He seemed to be reconciled to the fact that I was going to help him in his quest against the evil that had ensnared Annie, and I accepted his acceptance. I was sure that being allies was much more conducive to our mission than being enemies.

To pass the long hours of my convalescence, Gabrael took it upon himself to begin to teach me how to channel. If it was in my abilities to summon heavenly aid, it seemed prudent to know how to do that. Gabrael said that the highest power a normal human could channel was a Cherubim. However, given my bloodlines and my heritage, he cautiously stated that I could possibly channel a tiny measure of power of one of the Archangels, if I really concentrated.

I set myself the goal of channeling the power of Mikael. I figured, if we were going to be facing true evil in the form of a servant of a demon prince, it couldn't hurt to be able to use the power of the most powerful angel in heaven. There was just one problem: I couldn't find Mikael. Whenever I tried to focus on her power, I found myself in a gray limbo land, a vaccuum that seemed to suck out all energy. I knew that this had to be the place of punishment Gabrael had told me Mikael was doomed to. It frustrated me to no end that I could find Mikael, but not connect to her. I couldn't even see what she looked like; it was almost as though she didn't exist anymore.

When the doctor finally allowed me to get out of bed, things began happening very quickly. Gabrael left me in the Valerious manor while he went into town to try to get any scrap of information about the vampyre lord. He wasn't very successful in the attempt. He did learn that the vampyre was called the Son of Dracula. That seemed to cause him a great deal of uncomfort, but he seemed to be trying to deny some connection that he had made in his mind.

He also heard rumors that this Son of Dracula held a mortal prisoner, that he was trying to persuade her to become his next bride. Troublesome though this was, both Gabrael and I took it as a good sign. It meant that Annie could still be alive, that we could still get her back.

Annie had become something of an awkward topic between Gabrael and me. I knew, of course, that he loved Annie, and had in that other lifetime. I knew that I was nothing more to him than a partner of convenience, that after this nightmarish mission was over, we would likely never work together again.

But that didn't change the fact that the longer I spent around him, the less I thought about my best friend. The longer I spent in Transylvania, the less I thought about the mission we had come here for. The more time that passed, the more I began to feel that Svetlana had sent me here not to rescue Annie, but to discover something about myself. Something that I could only learn with Gabrael's help.

But the reality of what we were here to do hit me in the gut about a week after I had fully recovered from Anya's attack.

I was headed to the front door to go explore the village when Jack walked through the front door of the manor. I stopped dead, staring at him, wondering if I was hallucinating.

"Jack?" I asked in disbelief.  
He smiled at me and walked forward. "Hey, Esmerelda."  
I accepted his embrace, hugging him for a moment before I stepped back. "What are you _doing_ here?"  
"I heard about what happened to you," he replied, reaching out and laying a finger on the scar on my neck. "I came to protect you."

Whether it was an act of providence or of perdition, I didn't know, but some cosmic force chose that moment to send Gabrael through the front door. He stopped short upon seeing Jack, confusion written on his face. Jack, in response, had stiffened up, an almost openly hostile look on his face.

"Jack? What are you doing here?" Gabrael asked.  
"I came for Michelle," Jack replied stonily. "To protect her."  
"That's my job," Gabrael stated, folding his arms.  
"And a wonderful job you've done, so far," Jack retorted.

The two men turned to face each other, sizing the other up. Sensing the power struggle that was developing, I stepped back out of the line of fire. I shook my head; why exactly were they arguing over me as if I were a piece of property? I didn't much like feeling that I was the bit of rope in a game of tug of war.

"What are you saying, Jack?" Gabrael asked, steely eyed.  
"I'm saying that you're failing the Order by failing to protect Michelle," Jack replied, folding his own arms.  
"She's my partner," Gabrael said, his voice hardening further, if that was possible. "I would protect her with my life."  
"Like you did when she was attacked by a vampyre?" Jack scoffed.  
"That was my failure," Gabrael acknowledged, shadows of some dark emotion playing across his face. "But sometimes, injury in this job is unavoidable."  
"That's not acceptable!" Jack snapped.  
"I never said it was," Gabrael bit back. "But I'm doing everything I can to rectify that mistake."  
"And what about the mistake you made in blaming Michelle for what happened to Annie?" Jack snarled.  
Gabrael winced. "Yes, I mean to correct that mistake, too."  
"If you don't get her killed first," Jack said. "That does seem to be a frightening tendancy of yours, Von Lycanius… or should I call you Van Helsing? The women in your life never seem to do well. First Anna, then Mikael, then Annie, now Michelle…"  
"Jack!" I said sharply. "That's uncalled for."  
"How did you know about Anna and Mikael?" Gabrael asked, doing an admirable job of keeping his temper.  
"I remembered," Jack said. "Don't you recognize me, Gabrael? You killed me, in that lifetime. Then you killed my sister."  
Gabrael's eyes widened, and for a moment he was speechless. "Velkan."  
Jack smiled without mirth. "So you do remember."  
"Of course I remember," Gabrael choked out.  
At this point, I threw my hands up in the air in disgust. "What is it about Romania that's bringing all these past life memories up? I feel left out!" I walked forward until I was between Jack and Gabrael. "This is going to stop right now. Gabrael, go up to the library and finish looking up those references to the Son of Dracula you wanted. Jack, go to the office and check in. Both of you, now."

Jack and Gabrael glared at each other for another moment, but did as I had ordered. I sighed and walked back into the garden; suddenly, exploring the village had lost all its charm. I wanted someplace where I could get away from the clashing alpha males, and try to refocus on what I was supposed to be doing.

On the far side of the garden was an ancient cemetary. Normally, I hate graveyards. I think they're creepy. But I was drawn to the small stand of crumbling headstones. The youngest grave markers belonged to Velkan and Anna Valerious. I shivered at the thought that the remains of Jack and Annie's former incarnations rested under my feet. But I paused by their graves for only a moment before moving on to the two graves that had caught my eye.

One was in the shape of an ornate Romanian cross. Buried here was Ana Elspeth Valerious-Draculia. Dracula's wife, and Mikael's mother. Beside her grave was a small, simple headstone. Centuries of time and bad weather had nearly erased the writing, but somehow I knew exactly what had been chiseled onto the stone.

_Alena Kathryn Nicoleta Draculia Van Helsing  
__Daughter of Mikael Draculia and Gabrael Van Helsing  
__Te ador, fiica_

My emotions were two-fold. There was an exterior shock at seeing the headstone of Gabrael's child, and confusion that the daughter of two angels had died.

But there was another, more powerful, internal reaction to seeing the headstone of Alena Van Helsing, and that was an all-consuming, gut-wrenching grief. I couldn't stop the tears from pouring out of my eyes, and I couldn't contain my quiet sobs. I fell to my knees, weeping as if it were my daughter buried there, and not some unknown baby who had died over 600 years ago.

"Michelle?"

I jerked my head up when I heard Jack's voice, to see him standing at the edge of the cemetary, a concerned look on his face.

"Michelle, what's wrong?" he asked as he leaped the fence and came to my side in a moment.  
"Oh, Jack," I whimpered, burying my face in his shoulder. "Nothing has made sense since I came here. None of my reactions or emotions make sense anymore. It's like I'm reliving memories that aren't mine, like I'm living someone else's life."  
Jack wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. "It's okay, Esmerelda. I'm here."

I curled into him, hiding from the world, realizing the potential of my situation. It would be easy, I knew that. So very easy. A slight shift of movement, the slightest tilt of my head. I would give Jack what he wanted, and I would remove the awkward block between Gabrael and I that seemed to stem from some inexplicable form of mutual attraction despite his relationship with Annie and my… potential… with Jack.

I found myself wondering what it would be like, to belong to Jack and his pack. I had never really had a boyfriend; I always felt like there was someone specific I was supposed to wait for. Besides, no one had ever really struck my fancy- except Gabrael, but he was clearly out of bounds on multiple counts. But now I found myself wondering if it might not be time to give in to a relationship.

So I shifted in Jack's arms, and I tilted my head back, and I brought his lips to mine, and it was done.

We stayed in the graveyard for an hour after the kiss finally ended, discussing everything. Jack asked me probably three dozen times if I was sure this was what I wanted, and each time I assured him it was. I knew that if I gave myself to Jack, I would become the lycan queen… and thus would have to become a lycan. That seemed to be the greatest difficulty in the situation… other than the fact that part of me irrationally thought I was betraying Gabrael.

I knew I would be happy as Jack's wife. He loved me, and I knew I could love him. I knew the pack would care for me, and I would care for them. I would grow to love my new family. But somehow I felt that something was missing. Something was slightly off-kilter, not quite right. I had no idea what I was still looking for, but I was searching futilely for something I didn't have.

* * *

:: Gabrael's POV ::

Jack's presence in Valeria threw a monkey wrench into my relationship with Michelle (such as it was). It was obvious he didn't trust me, something which I was very, very used to. His mistrust didn't bother me.

His overprotection of Michelle, however, did.

I wasn't sure why I was so jealous. I was fairly certain that my feelings for Michelle were strictly platonic, and sprung from a concern for her safety. I mean, of course I knew that she was an adult, perfectly capable of caring for herself, but… part of me demanded that I protect her.

Watching Jack with Michelle, how he kept so close to her and seeing how he looked at her, it drove me wild. Seeing them together reminded me in a new, somehow even more painful way that I wasn't with Annie, that I had no idea where she was or who she was with. What if she was dead, or being tortured? I had failed her once before, in another lifetime; I couldn't fail her again.

If I were being honest with myself- something I didn't like doing these days- the real reason that watching Jack and Michelle was so painful was because it reminded me of how Mikael and I had once been. Jack's solicitude reminded me of how zealously I had guarded Mikael during our missions, how I had done everything in my power to keep her safe so she could be as reckless and cocky as she liked. And Michelle's laughing dismissal of Jack's worry was exactly what Mikael had once done.

It was unsettling, how the longer I spent with Michelle, the more she reminded me of my wife. I had thought that her resemblance to Mikael would fade over time, but it only got stronger. Certain things she said, the way she wore the gypsy clothes Jack bought for her, the look in her gray eyes… each time, the similitude would suckerpunch me, leaving me breathless and shaken.

Jack's determination to bite Michelle, to turn her into a lycan, bothered me more than anything. Michelle couldn't fully understand the decision she had made to cast off her humanity, and I didn't want to think of her suffering as I did, struggling to contain an inner beast. People shouldn't be forced to become monsters in this day and age.

But it wasn't my place to try to dissuade Michelle from her intended course. So all I could really do was pull away, and leave her to fate.

What I could do, and what I did, was to focus on Diana's propehcy. Now that I had a clearer sense of Michelle's potential, could I solve the riddle of the prophecy?

_Find the first treasure. Awaken the Defender. Call the Light back from the Darkness into which it has been plunged._

The more I thought about it, the plainer it became. Diana's advice had been to awaken Mikael, to free her from her prison. The question was, how? Michelle couldn't possibly be powerful enough to channel her. Castragoni princess and daughter of the Valerious or not, no human had enough psychological and metaphysical strength to contain even a measure of an Archangel's power.

Or could Michelle have the power to free Mikael from limbo? Was there some secret key that Michelle contained, a key that would unlock Mikael from her prison? Was it possible that somehow, Michelle could give me my Mikael back?

* * *

:: Michelle's POV ::

Once upon a time, the bed and breakfast where we were staying had been the Valerious family's manor. Knowing that, I was incredibly curious to explore the house, the place where Annie had once lived… and the castle from which Mikael had ruled.

The more I got to know about Mikael Draculia, the more she fascinated me, and the more similarites between us I found. She was a mystery, but the more I got to know her the more I seemed to discover about myself. Somehow, Mikael tied into this entire mission, and I was determined to solve all her mysteries.

One day, I was wandering through a room which was set up as a parlor, but which I remembered as having been a small family room, where once a little black-haired, silver-eyed girl had played with a large Newfoundland dog at the feet of her elegant, black-haired, gray-eyed father while he read some thick tome or other. I sat down in the chair the man had always used and closed my eyes, trying to focus with my gift.

_I smelled tobacco, firewood, and port, in addition to the scent of canine. I heard the crackling of a blazing fire, the turning of brittle pages of vellum, the pants and barks of the dog, the delighted laughter of the impish little girl, which seemed to issue from my own throat. I felt the dog's soft, shaggy fur, the warmth of the crimson velvet dress I wore, the plush carpet that shielded me from the cold stone floor._

_I looked up at my father, who had set aside his book and was leaning forward in his chair, observing my antics with the dog, and giggled before jumping up and leaping onto his lap._

_"Papa, thank you for my cîine," I said, wrapping my small arms around his neck.  
__"Have you decided what to name him, little princess?" he asked me, holding me close. "A dog is not a proper dog without a name."  
__I furrowed my delicate brows, thinking hard. "I will name him Dracul," I said delightedly. "He will keep me company when you have to go away!"  
__"An excellent idea, my Ana," my father smiled, kissing my cheek._

The sound of voices in the hallway disturbed my vision. I jerked back to the present with a gasp, and whirled around to face the door.

Standing in the doorway was a gypsy. He looked just my age, tall, swarthy, and handsome. His black hair fell loose around his face; his chocolate brown eyes were penetrating and intensely brooding. He was dressed rather quixotically in a poet's shirt and gray trousers, which were tucked into knee-high boots. A red sash was wrapped around his waist, and there was a gold hoop in his ear.

"Forgive me," he said in a husky Romanian accent upon seeing me, bowing slightly before walking towards me. "I did not mean to disturb my guest."  
"Your guest? You own this place?" I asked.  
"Indeed, it has been in my family since the death of Velkan and Anna Valerious," he said matter-of-factly. "But forgive me, we have not been introduced." He took my hand in his, and placed a kiss to it. "I am Karlos Sabbatoni."  
I smiled. "Michelle de Angeli."

By this point, I was anticipating his face going pale, his taking a step backward, and his deep bow to me. I waited for the obeisance to cease; being worshipped was getting annoying.

"My Princess," he breathed. "Welcome home at last. This house is yours, Princess Ana," he said. "I was merely a steward until your reappearance."  
"Mine?" I asked, looking around. "No, there must be some mistake."  
"There can be no mistake, my lady," Karlos said. "This house is your birthright. You have lived here before, and it shall be yours again."  
"Lived here before?" I asked, recalling my vision. "That's impossible… I mean, I was just seeing residual energy…"  
Karlos shook his head. "No, my lady. This house only reveals its secrets to those who have lived here before."  
"Then… then the dark-haired man I saw… he was my father?" I asked uncertainly.  
Karlos nodded, his gaze dark and serious. "Your people have been waiting for your return, my lady," he said. "Please, it would be my honor to bring you to them."  
I bit my lip, unsure. "I don't know… I mean, I'm not here alone… and I didn't come here to reclaim some lost heritage…"  
"The heritage was not lost, Princess Ana," Karlos insisted. "It is your destiny to fulfill your appointed role. The only question is, are you brave enough to seek your fate out?" He smiled mysteriously and held out his hand. "I have something to show you."

I hesitated for only a moment before I took his hand. His smile widened, then he led me down the hall to an ancient wooden staircase. He led me up the winding stairs in silence. I followed closely, biting my lip as the air grew thick with anticipation.

At the top of the stairs was a stout wooden door. Karlos turned to me and placed his finger on my lips, stilling any questions I might have, before digging a key out of his pocket and placing it in the brass lock. He pulled the heavy door open, then motioned for me to enter the room. I drew a deep breath and walked in… and then stood stock still as I was inundated with a wave of déjà vu too strong to belong merely to residual energies.

The room was large and circular, a tower room. Windows looked out in all directions, and a set of double doors led to a small balcony. There was a large fireplace, over which hung a mammoth portrait of three people- a beautiful woman, a teenaged girl, and the elegant man who I had seen in my vision. There was a blood-red chaise longue before the fireplace, bookcases set up around the room, a bed nestled against one curving wall.

I was home.

"Your Gabrael lied to you when he told you that all you were doing was feeling residual energies," Karlos said softly, a sly smile on his face.  
I turned to him quickly, still disoriented. "He's not _my_ Gabrael. How did you-?"  
Karlos waved aside my question with an elegant hand. "Our people know such things," he said dismissively. He motioned to the room. "Surely you know better than to believe that the images even now flooding your brain are merely old energies? No, my lady. You know these things for what they are. _Memories_."  
I shook my head slowly, feeling as though I were in a fog. "But I don't have any past-life memories…"  
"Don't you?" Karlos asked, a faint smirk on his face. "What do you think you have been seeing since you returned to Romania?"  
"Returned?" I asked faintly.  
"You are seeing these things because you have been here before. You have lived here before. What are you are seeing, my Princess, are memories of a time when you ruled Transylvania."  
I turned to him, knowing I was on the verge of something huge. "Who was I?"  
Karlos smiled. "It is not for me to reveal to you. However, I can tell you this much. You, my lady, were the High Princess of the Romanian Gypsies, and the rightful ruler of Transylvania. And your return is an invitation to reclaim the office which once you forsook." He bowed again, and began to walk away. "The full moon is in two days. I will ask for your answer then, Princess Ana."

He walked away then, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I stood in the middle of the room that had once been mine, considering. Everyone seemed to think that I was fated to fulfill some grand destiny… Perhaps I should take Karlos up on his offer? What if the reason I had to come to Transylvania was to discover who I truly was? Was I brave enough to learn the answer?


	10. X

**Author's Note**: I'll be the first to admit that this chapter is really short. But I love it. It does exactly what I wanted it to, namely create a really creepy mood while setting everything up for the crisis and climax of the story, which is coming up really soon. I think this chapter is perfectly mysterious, and the ending makes me happy. Enjoy!

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:: Michelle's POV ::  
The full moon was blood red that night.

I should have known, should have remembered from my grandmother's stories, that a red moon is a great portend of things to come. Here, in Romania, the land of myth and magic, I should have paid heed to the old stories.

Jack had gone to Bucharest, to meet the lycan king of Romania and to discuss a possible alliance. He had promised me that we would spend part of each year here in Transylvania, as it now felt more like my home more than England. He had reluctantly left me in the care of Gabrael, but had called at least four times a day since he left.

Gabrael had left me alone at the manor at sunset on the first day of the full moon so that he could phase and run. He had told me that he had reached a state of control over his lycanthropy so he could phase any time he wished- it was how he had been able to fight off the werewolf back in London. Normally, if he had the choice, he would change on the full moon, because his animal side was much harder to control during that time. He promised that I would be completely safe during the three days of the full moon. He told me he wouldn't ever be far away- no more than five miles at any given time. Close enough so that he could come if I needed him, but far enough away that he didn't have to control his lycan side.

The second night of the phase, the night when lunar magic is the strongest, the moon was blood red.

It had been visible in the sky all day long. People said it was a bad omen. They closed their businesses, stayed inside all day, hoping to avoid bad luck and ill fortunes. Families gathered in one room, preferably close to the fireplace, and prayed that calamity might pass them by.

I should have been doing the same thing. I had Romanian blood in my veins; I knew the gypsy legends. Bad luck follows a blood red moon. But I chose to ignore the omens, placed my faith in my guns and my Order training.

The winds had been murmuring all day, foretelling doom and death and destruction. I heard my name whispered on the breeze, as if someone was calling me back to them. The winds would wrap around me, almost tugging me in a direction that I didn't want to travel.

Karlos came to me at midnight. I was sitting on my bed, dressed in a white peasant shirt, black vest, tight black pants, and knee-high boots with buckles and a small heel. I was playing with my cross pendant, twisting the blood-red ruby on my left hand. My black curls fell freely down my back.

"Princess Ana," he said smoothly, bowing.

I turned my head to look at him. He was dressed in all black, still looking like a dashing rogue from the 1800s. He was primal, and dangerous, and seductive, and I was utterly entranced by him.

"It is time, my lady," he said, his voice husky and flowing over me like black velvet. "Your people are waiting. Have you made your decision?"  
"Take me to them," I replied, my voice slipping into an accent that matched his.

A smile that was more of a smirk crossed his darkly handsome face. In one hand, he held up a warm black velvet cloak; the other he held out to me. I took the cloak and wrapped it around myself, then took his hand.

He walked backwards, silently leading me through the shadows. His eyes never left mine, nor did he let go of my hand. We were two wraiths, blending into the darkness.

He led me outside and settled me on a frisky, powerful stallion. He sat behind me, and spurred the horse on into the blackness of the night. We rode in silence, melting into one another as he led me to the unknown.

I don't know how long we rode through the forest. Eventually, though, Karlos reined in the horse, and helped me to the ground. He took my hand, and led me a ways further. Then he stopped.

"I bring your Princess back to you," he announced, his voice low and intense in the silence. "I give you your Defender, your Angel."

There was no sound, but suddenly we were surrounded on all sides by figures hooded in black. None spoke. The fog closed in around us, and suddenly Karlos was no longer by my side. I stood alone, surrounded by a ring of strangers.

The moon shone directly overhead, bathing me in blood.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice shaky and barely louder than a whisper.  
"We are those who have served the Prince for centuries," came the whispered response. "We are the watchers, the waiters. We are your subjects and your kin. We are those who are your enemy by nature, your servants by choice. We are those who will deliver you to he who will awaken you to your true nature, your true calling. We are those who will serve as the bridge to your destiny."  
"Who is he? This Prince?" I demanded, clutching my cross pendant.  
"A child of light, a creature of darkness," they whispered. "One whom you have known before, one who you chose and rejected. The one who holds the key to your reawakening. One who is your lord and master, your partner and slave. One who has fallen, but one who has risen to great heights."

In the distance, I heard a wolf howl. The cry was echoed by everyone in the circle, and then they threw off their cloaks.

My eyes widened in horror as flesh tore away, revealing fur. Muscles elongated, teeth became fangs, humans became animals. The lycans who had only moments ago been gypsies leered at me, the moon reflected in their eyes. They closed in on me slowly, and I knew that I had made a fatal mistake, and that I couldn't stop what I had in my ignorance unleashed.

I barely had time to scream Gabrael's name before something hit me hard from behind, and everything went black.

And the moon shone blood red, foretelling my doom.


	11. XI

**Author's Note**: Millions of apologies for keeping you waiting so long for this chapter. I got a severe case of writer's block halfway through re-writing this chapter. I just couldn't wrap my head around Michelle's POV. Hopefully this chapter isn't complete crap, and you'll enjoy it!

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:: Gabrael's POV ::

It was all I could do to hold my exhausted, tortured body upright as I trudged into the Valerious Manor after 72 hours of constant running. I wanted nothing more than to tumble face-first into my bed, and sleep for at least 15 hours.

This full moon had been the most unsettling since my very first shift back in 1888. The entire forest had been on edge, skittish and unsettled. The energy in the air had crackled with fearful anticipation and wariness. I knew it wasn't due to my presence- if there's one thing Transylvania is used to, it's creatures of legend prowling in dark and lonely places.

But I didn't have the energy right now to figure out what had been wrong. I walked past Michelle's door without stopping in to tell her that I was back. Thankfully, I didn't meet anyone in the hall. I was free to simply lock my door behind me, kick off my combat boots, and fall unconscious only moments after my head hit the pillow.

I didn't wake up for 16 hours, and when I finally did regain consciousness, I was sore all over. It didn't really bother me, though; tortured muscles are part of the deal of lycanthropy. I yawned, scratched my three-day beard, and headed to the bathroom to shower. I turned the water as hot as it could go and washed off the mud and slime of the forest, then just leaned against the shower wall and let the water pound against my shoulders and back. When I could finally be bothered to get out of the shower, I toweled off and dressed quickly, then headed for Michelle's room to check in with her.

"Michelle?" I asked, knocking on her door.

I furrowed my brow when there was no answer. Had I done something to make her mad at me again? I wracked my brain, but couldn't think of anything I might have done. Then again, the female mind is incomprehensible… I knocked again, but still got no answer; nor did I hear any movement coming from her room. I narrowed my eyes; something wasn't sitting right with me. I tried the doorknob, and found it unlocked, meaning she hadn't gone out.

I walked in… and froze as my nostrils were assaulted by the scent of the lycan pack who had taken Annie in London. The scent was at least a day old, but probably two. Michelle's scent wasn't any fresher.

Oh no. Not again.

I forced myself to get over the first panic quickly, then trained my mind on following the scent. It was faint, but I knew I would be able to follow it. Without stopping for anything other than to grab my cell phone and my room key, I took off. The scent was difficult to track once I got outside, but I was able to follow it with only a few difficulties out of town and roughly south, towards the forest.

Once I was away from the town, the trail was much easier to follow. It led me deep into the woods, to a small, circular clearing. Here I nearly lost Michelle's scent; it was overpowered by the scent of the lycans. From that, I guessed that she had been taken from Valeria by one werewolf, and he had led her here, where the rest of the pack was waiting.

There were so many scents I was nearly driven to distraction; beneath the scent of the pack was each lycan's individual smell. When I figured out how many lycans had been here, I was astonished. It had been a huge clan. Normally, packs aren't any more than five to seven members strong. Even Jack's pack of fifteen was unusually large. But this pack had twenty-five members. How was it possible for a clan that large to live together peacefully?

Pushing aside that quandry for now, I continued following the scent, furrowing my brow when I found it led right back to the Valerious manor. That made no sense; why go to all the trouble of kidnapping Michelle, if only to return her to the manor?

Utterly frustrated with the fruitless search, I walked back into the house. I glanced around aimlessly, and then a tiny detail about the sitting room cleared up the entire mystery for me.

Once upon a time, the sitting room had been a front parlor. On one wall of the parlor was painted a map of Transylvania. Once upon a time, I had learned that this map was actually a mirror. A mirror that was actually a door to Castle Dracula.

All of the torches that had once rested in holders on the walls in the parlor had vanished. And the table that had stood before the mural had been moved to the middle of the room. Which meant that these lycans had carried Michelle through the portal, to Castle Dracula.

That was the moment that I learned who the new vampyre lord was, and what had happened to Annie and Michelle.

He had taken his cue from Dracula, and enslaved the lycan pack to his will. He had to have somehow figured out that Michelle could be used to channel Mikael's power, and had ordered them to capture Annie in order to lure Michelle to Transylvania. Then he had ordered the lycans to kidnap Michelle, in order to lure me to the castle, so he could take his revenge on me in whatever manner he chose.

And now that I had figured out his plan, I had to stop him.

I sank into one of the parlor chairs, staring blankly at the mural. I let myself sink into a momentary self-remonstration. I should have been more careful, I berated myself. I should have taken greater precautions to ensure Michelle's safety. She was my responsibility, and now she had been captured by the very person I should have protected her from.

I shook my head to shake off the mood and stood, shoving my hand into my pocket. I didn't have time for this right now; right now I had to make a couple of phone calls and implement a rescue plan. In years past, I wouldn't have called anyone else in; I would have just opened the portal on my own and taken care of business. But I knew that I would need help for this, and I knew that others had a right to try to rescue Annie and Michelle.

I dug a small silver cell phone out of my pocket and pressed 1 on the speed dial. I braced myself as the phone rang; this was Svetlana's and my private line, only to be called in case of an emergency.

"What's happened?" came Svetlana's tense, urgent voice.  
"Michelle's been kidnapped," I replied. "While I was phasing during the full moon."

I waited patiently [for me] while a string of English and Romanian curses poured through the phone. Each word only made me feel more guilty with the knowledge that I had failed her.

Eventually, Svetlana drew a deep breath and sighed. "How did this happen?"  
"I don't really know yet," I said. "She was taken to a clearing to meet the same lycan pack who kidnapped Annie, and then they brought her back to the Valerious Manor to take her through a portal to Castle Dracula. But I don't know how she ended up meeting whoever took her. Svetlana, I…" I sighed; I had always hated saying these words. "I need your help."  
Svetlana laughed weakly. "Gabrael Van Helsing, actually asking for help. I thought this day would never come. I'll be there tonight," she stated before hanging up.

I stared at the phone for a long moment after hanging up with Svetlana, extremely reluctant to make the next call. I didn't like him, he didn't like me, it was better if we interacted as little as possible. But, I reminded myself, no matter how protective of her I felt, despite how I couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity that bespoke knowing her in one of her previous lives, she belonged to Jack. He above all others had the right to find her, according to lycan rule. I had no choice but to involve him.

"Hello?" came Jack's business-like voice.  
"It's Gabe," I said shortly, wanting to keep this as brief as humanly possible.  
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice instantly wary and tense.  
"She's gone."  
"WHAT?!"  
"You heard me."  
"How could you let this happen? You were supposed to be protecting her!"  
"I assumed she would be fine. Besides, around the full moon she's safer if I'm not around."

We were both silent for a moment, admitting that truth.

"Do you know where she is?" Jack asked, becoming more and more Alpha with every passing moment.  
"Yeah," I said. "I know who ordered her taken, and I know where she is. I just need your help to get her, and to kill the vampyre who's holding her."  
"We don't kill lightly," Jack said, using the pack plural and beginning to sound older than his years. "My pack has never killed when it wasn't necessary."  
"If you don't kill this vampyre lord, he will turn Michelle into a creature exactly like him," I said bluntly. "He will bind her to his will, and he will use her to unleash Dracula into the world. He has to be killed."  
"Fine," Jack said heavily. "I'll call Daniel, have him mobilize the pack and fly into Bucharest. We'll be in Valeria by nightfall."  
I nodded. "I'll be waiting."

I shut the phone and threw it against the wall, snarling under my breath.

The part you never see in action movies is the waiting. In action movies, everything happens one thing right after another, with no breaks and no down time. That's not how it actually works. In real life, there's always a point where you have to wait before anything more can be done.

It's my least favorite part of what I do, the waiting. I hate the times when there's nothing I can do but fold my arms and pace while my mind goes wild thinking through possibilities and scenarios for what's coming next. But that's what I was forced to do for the entire bloody day. I locked myself in my room so I wouldn't last out at anyone, and I started pacing, giving myself over to my emotions. Might as well get them taken care of now, while I had nothing else to do, so that when it came time for action I wouldn't be burdened by thoughts.

The first emotion to overtake me was an all-consuming panic and fear for Michelle's safety. It was my fault that she had been taken, and I absoutely had to rescue her. My reaction to her capture didn't make much sense to me; she was my partner, but my main responsibility was to Annie. And yet, I was almost used to not having Annie around by this point. I had gotten used to having Michelle around, and somehow it hurt me more deeply that she was gone than that Annie was still missing.

Quick to follow on the heels of the panic was guilt. I should have known better, I admonished myself, than to leave Michelle alone when I knew we were surrounded by enemies. Michelle had only had a few months of training, whereas I had been doing this for over a century. I should have known better than to let her fend for herself when she didn't know exactly what we were facing.

Soon after the guilt, though, came the inevitable anger. I knew it was wrong to blame the victim, but why hadn't Michelle taken care of herself? Why had she let herself get into this situation? Why had she trusted whoever had taken her? Why hadn't she been smarter about this?

The more I thought about it, the more and more like déjà vu this entire situation became. Once upon a time, the two women I loved had been kidnapped by a sadistic vampyre who wanted to turn one of them into his bride, and to turn the other into the most powerful vampyre in the world. Though the situation was different this time in that I didn't love both of the women who had been taken, I had to laugh (though bitterly) at the irony that Annie had been taken from me again. And if I didn't focus on her for too long, I could almost imagine that Michelle really was Mikael, and that made her capture all the more bitter for me.

I sank onto my bed, resting my elbows on my thighs and my head in my hands. I missed Mikael. I needed her so badly right now. She would have known what to do. Oh, she would have been cocky and reckless when we went in, but she would have known how to fix this situation. It had been a hard century without her imput, her brilliant ideas, her utter assurance that everything would be alright.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when there was a knock on the door. I had gotten so lost in the twisted confines of my own mind that I had been paying no attention to the passing of time. But it was now night… and thus, show time.

Standing at the door was Svetlana. She had traded her scarves and skirts for a gray turtleneck sweater, black pants, boots, and an amulet of protection.

"I've called my clan," she said.  
"Can you send them to the clearing in the forest?" I asked. "Jack and his pack can meet us there."

Svetlana nodded and snapped open her cell phone as we took off on foot for the forest. As we wlaked, I relayed to her my hypothesis about who we were facing. Svetlana paled, but nodded, her Order training forcing her to set aside her panic and think clearly.

"If that is indeed the case, we need to hurry," she said. "You know his first move will be to turn Michelle into a creature like himself."  
"What is it with everyone suddenly wanting to turn Michelle into a monster?" I asked agitatedly.  
"It's her magic," Svetlana said, as if it should be utterly obvious to me by now. "Whatever group she allies herself with will have a tool at their disposal to channel any force they wish into the world."

When we got to the clearing, we were surrounded by a contingent of hooded and cloaked Castragonis. Svetlana inclined her head at her clan before stepping forward to address them.

"My brothers and sisters, our clan is in danger; you know this. We have been hunted mercilessly for 121 years. Now our princess, our rightful leader and queen, has been kidnapped. You know why the enemy wants us dead- it lies in our power to reawaken our Defender. This we must do, before the enemy destroys her as he did last time."

There was no cheering; the Castragonis remained silent. But there was resolution and determination on every face, and I was relieved that someone, at least, had a plan.

I turned when I heard the snuffles and breathing of a group of lycans. I smelled the breeze, nodding when I caught the scent of Jack's pack. I kept my distance from them, knowing they were likely not too pleased with me for having let their future queen be kidnapped by a vampyre.

I stiffened suddenly, my eyes trained on the woods. Svetlana glanced up at me, brow furrowed.

"Gabrael?" she asked.  
"They're here," I replied tensely.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the gypsies and the pack were herded into a cluster by the advancing lycans. I knew instantly that they were the pack who had kidnapped Michelle, and who had taken Annie from London. These were the servants of the vampyre lord, and they had to be destroyed.

Svetlana stood tall, the picture of defiance. She lifted her eyes to the heavens and sent one prayer to the stars.

"_Awaken, Mikael, leader of the Heavenly host, defender of Transylvania, and protector of the gypsies_."

My heart flew into my throat, but I didn't have the voice to tell Svetlana that Mikael couldn't rescue anyone.

The gypsies pulled weapons from under their cloaks- swords, guns, silver stakes. They held them aloft, screaming Mikael's name as a battle cry. The lycan snarled at us, leering. Jack's pack trotted in from the woods, howling to the moon. I closed my eyes, unable to keep from smiling at the music they made.

And then the melee began.

* * *

:: Michelle's POV ::

My eyelids were slow to obey the command to open, as though they were resisting a call from an outside force. When they finally relented and opened, it took another long minute before my eyes could focus. Blurred shapes and colors resolved themselves into definite pictures, and finally I could begin to make sense of where I was.

The room was dim, and damp. The walls were made of stone, and there was very little space, and there was a wall of iron bars- ah. A dungeon cell. Perfect.

I wasn't chained to a wall; there was no need. I had no idea where I was, and had no way to get out of the cell and attempt to run away. For now, at least, it was better to remain where I was.

"Thank God, you're awake."  
I turned my head at the sound of the scratchy, hoarse voice, then stared. "Oh my God… Annie!"

She was filthy, her clothing in tatters. She looked emaciated and half-wild… but it was my Annie, alive and relatively unharmed. She sat in the cell next to mine, leaning against the iron bars. I shimmied over to her and gripped her hand through the bars, disturbed at how fragile she looked.

"Annie, what happened to you?" I asked.  
Annie shuddered. "Michelle, you have to find a way to get out of here. The vampyre lord…" she closed her eyes, shuddering again. "I had no way to keep track of the time, but he kept coming back, kept asking me questions about you and Gabe and what I remembered from my last life. I wouldn't answer him, and he got mad."  
"What did he do?" I breathed.  
"He tranced me, forced me to answer," Annie answered. "He kept talking about his master, said his master was coming soon to take control. If he's anything like the vampyre lord…"

I stared at Annie, alarmed. Annie never, ever showed fear or weakness. If she said to avoid this vampyre lord, I would take her advice.

It took me about two seconds to realize that that plan of action would never work. Karlos had brought me here for the express purpose of meeting my "prince." Who else could this be but the vampyre lord? I had brought this upon myself. I had wanted a grand destiny, wanted to discover an exotic past and an importance I wasn't ready for. My capture was my fault, and I would have to face the consequences.

A thick wooden door creaked open. I glanced at Annie, who had stiffened, before turning towards the door to face whatever was coming next.

The moment I looked at him, I was gone. His blue-green eyes seemed to hold me captive; I was bound to the smile that was more than half a smirk. This man was a part of me, part of the memories I could see, part of the past that I could barely recall.

As he walked toward me, realization dawned, and it was all I could do to say his name.

"Raphael."


	12. XII

**Author's Note**: Once again I ask your pardon for my extreme tardiness in posting an update. I realized after I rewrote the last chapter that I'm probably going to have to at least partially rewrite each of the remaining chapters (including this one, there are 3 left), and that fact severely disheartened me. So I avoided doing it. I've smacked myself out of it, though, and me and my muse are hard at work editing chapters 13 and 14. For now, enjoy chapter 12. I consider it one of my weakest chapters, so I promise I won't be offended if you message me to tell me that this chapter sucked.

**Disclaimer**: I know one or two people have asked how Raphael could possibly be in this story when I quite clearly killed him in P/A. To which I answer, I'm putting that information somewhere in the next two chapters. Any other inconsistencies? Please do let me know!

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:: Michelle's POV ::  
"Raphael."

As soon as his name left my lips, fear started to build in me, tightening my chest, choking me. I couldn't fully remember this man who was so much more than a mortal man, but I knew he was dangerous, knew he could and would destroy me without a second thought.

Raphael's full lips stretched into a predatory smile. "You remember me?"

His voice was seductive and velvety. It lacked any trace of a Romanian accent, but he was Transylvanian to the core, and I found myself drawn to him despite myself.

I gulped. "Not really, no."  
"Ah. Well, I cannot say I am not disappointed, Princess," he said, his voice easily tracing the cadences the language of bygone centuries. "But, I suppose it has been so long, you cannot be faulted for not remembering. Perhaps I should reintroduce myself?" He swept me an elegant, mocking bow. "I am Count Raphael de Lioncourt, chosen heir of Vladislaus Draculia, king of the vampyre, husband of his daughter Princess Mikael."  
"Leave Michelle alone," Annie piped up, grasping the bars of her cell and pulling herself up. "She wasn't alive in that past life, she knows nothing, she means nothing. Let her go."  
Raphael cocked one eyebrow. "Nothing? On the contrary, Annie. Michelle knows everything. She means everything, if only I can unlock her memories. It is you who means nothing. Nothing but a means to get to an end. And you have served your purpose well."

I gulped, afraid for Annie's continued safety. From what I knew about vampyre, once a human had served their purpose, they tended to die rather quickly. I couldn't let Annie die, not now, not when I'd come so far to rescue her.

"A means to an end… It was you. You were the one who left the Seal of the Draculs in our apartment, in the Basilica," I said, trying to get Raphael's attention on me so he would forget Annie.  
"Oh, stalking is such an ugly word," he said, waving away my words. "I was observing you, Princess. It was my servants who left the Seal- I was hoping that you would recognize it, that it would lead you home."  
"I'm not a princess. I'm not Princess Ana, I'm Michelle di Angeli. And my home isn't Transylvania. My home is in London," I replied, ordering myself to believe my words.  
He laughed- a perfect laugh, but there was an undercurrent of malice in it that made me shiver. "You could be so much more than what you are, if you would only open yourself to the possibility."  
"What do you want with me?" I asked, shrinking back against the far wall of my prison.  
Raphael smiled. "My dear, haven't you been told what you are? What it is you are called to be?"  
I rolled my eyes. "That's it? You just want my gypsy magic?"  
"No," he said harshly, cutting me off.

No one human could move that quickly. Only a vampyre could possess the speed he used to walk inside my cell until he stood directly before me.

"Gypsy magic is only the tip of the iceberg for you, my love," he said, leaning in close and inhaling my scent. He smiled evilly. "How fortunate. You still smell the same. Lilies and sandalwood, and something that is only you."  
I gulped. "I smell the same…? Did you know me, in that life when Annie was a Valerious?"  
Raphael laughed again. "Did I know you? No one knew you better, Princess. Not even your precious Gabrael knew you like I did."

I stared at him, entranced. So I had known Gabrael once upon a time, then.

"Who was I?" I asked in a faint voice, not entirely sure I wanted to know.  
Raphael looked at me, musing. "I wonder if I should tell you now, who you truly are. Or should I wait until your Gabrael comes for you? You know he is coming, my dear. He always did come for you the second he learned you were in danger. So predictable."  
I swallowed hard at the mention of the Archangel. "Yes, he'll come. But he's not coming for me. He's coming for Annie. He loves Annie; loved her in her past life, too. I'm just the best friend."  
He laughed then, long and loud. "So he doesn't know?! He couldn't guess? How droll. In that case, I simply have to wait until he comes. I must see the look on his face when I tell you both what your true nature is, Princess. It will be priceless. Until then, my dear… surely you must be hungry."

My stomach rumbled as if on cue. Raphael smiled and held out his hand to me.

"Come, then."  
"Leave her alone, Raphael!" Annie yelled. "Michelle, no!"

I didn't mean to take his hand, but it was as though I was under his spell, just a puppet on his string. He pulled me out of the cell and placed my hand on his arm, then led me through the castle to the dining room, leaving Annie behind to stare after me in fear and disbelief.

"I must apologize for the way my gypsies treated you," he said conversationally. "They are good workers, but can be… rather rough. Is your head alright?"  
"Yes, it's fine," I said, gingerly touching the back of my head, where I had fallen in the forest.

Raphael sat me down at one end of a long table, and was seated at the other end before I had time to blink.

"Now, my dear, let us enjoy the time left to us before Gabrael comes charging in, brandishing his flaming sword," Raphael smiled, raising a goblet (filled with a questionable red liquid) in a toast. "He always was a fan of dramatic entrances."  
"Why are you doing all of this?" I asked, reaching greedily for the food before me. "Kidnapping Annie and me? What are you trying to prove?"  
Raphael leaned back in his chair, sipping from his goblet. "Prove? My love, I have nothing to prove. It is what you truly are that is important to me. If I do not awaken your true essence, how can I succeed in my ultimate goals?"

Some inner sense told me to keep him talking, that I was safe as long as he was talking, and didn't see me as a threat.

"And just what are your ultimate goals?" I asked.

"I will awaken your true nature, and when I do I will finally have the power I need to release my master."  
"You want to bring Dracula back?" I asked weakly.  
Raphael laughed. "Dracula? Dracula is nothing compared to what I am, compared to my master," he said, evil creeping into his voice. "I will open a portal to Hell, and you will bring the Morning Star into the world."  
I sat back, feeling faint. "You want me to bring Satan to Earth."  
He smirked. "Yes. You are the most powerful medium on Earth, my dear. You can be used to channel the power of the very highest powers of Heaven- or the strongest powers of Hell. I've been planning this for a long time, Michelle. I am the one who has hunted and killed the Castragoni gypsies for more than a century. I am the one who planned the car accident that killed your parents. I'd planned to have your grandmother killed, too, but fortunately the cancer did my work for me."

He glanced at me, saw how hard I was gripping the arms of my chair to keep from destroying him.

"Well, my dear, I had to break the protection the gypsies placed on you," he said, laughter in his voice. "If that protection held, my plan would come to naught. I arranged Annie's capture to lure you home to me. Now that you're here… why, all I have to do is kill you, and resurrect you as you truly are, so you can channel Lucifer into this plane. Don't worry, it won't hurt... much," he added on, as an afterthought.

Ha. As if that was on the forefront of my mind right now.

"I won't do it. I'll fight you till my dying breath," I asked through gritted teeth.

He smiled. "I think you'll find that you won't be able to resist," he said.

He stared deep into my eyes, and suddenly everything went fuzzy. My mind went blank, and I lost control of myself. I sank into the oblivion, unable to fight the trance he laid on me.

_Gabrael… help me…_

* * *

:: Gabrael's POV ::

I looked around, sighing in exhaustion. It had been a fierce battle, and many Castragonis and 3 members of Jack's pack had been killed. But the important thing was that the enemy lycans were all dead, except for one, who was being tortured while Svetlana questioned him. I walked over to her, not even blinking as she shot the werewolf in the head with silver bullets.

"So?" I asked, wiping the blood from my forehead.  
"Who were they?" Jack asked, limping forward and wiping the blood from his face.  
"They were servants of the vampyre lord," Svetlana said. "He lives in Dracula's castle. He owns the Valerious manor- Karlos was only running it for him. They're the ones who kidnapped Annie and Michelle."  
"Dracula's castle?" I asked, a small smile growing on my face. "That's perfect!"  
"How?" Svetlana asked. "No one knows how to get to Dracula's castle."  
"I know how," I replied. "Gather what's left of your clan and meet me back at the manor."  
"I'm coming with you," Jack said immediately.

I nodded, not even bothering to argue because I knew I'd lose. A moment later, Jack and I had changed form, and sprinted back to Valeria as quickly as we could. Finally, something was going right. Here was one problem that I had the answer to, one question I could solve. Maybe this foretold a turning of the wheel; maybe things would get better from now on.

Ha. I should be so lucky.

Eventually, everyone was gathered in the main hall of the Valerious manor. I led them to a certain wall painting depicting a map of Transylvania.

"Now, everyone knows that vampyre cast no reflections in the mirror, yes?" I asked, grinning when everyone nodded. "Did anyone ever wonder why that was?" I was met with silence. "Maybe, to the vampyre, they're not mirrors at all." I motioned to the wall behind me. "This, my friends, is the door that will lead us to Dracula's castle."

I turned to face the wall, ignoring the laughter of the gypsies and the skepticism of the lycans. I moved a chair from where it stood covering the Latin inscription that I knew would open the door... And then my eyes widened to see that the inscription had been destroyed.

Refusing to panic just yet, I closed my eyes, trying to remember the incantation Carl had mumbled in a dead language over a century ago.

"In the name of God, open this door," I finished triumphantly.

There was a sound of cracking, and then to my relief, the rivers painted on the wall turned silver, and a moment later, I was facing a huge mirror. I turned and smirked at the dumbstruck assemblage, then grabbed a flashlight from one of the gypsies and stepped through the mirror.

I looked up at the castle, sighing in disgust. I had hoped that I would never have to see this place again. After a moment, I turned to help Svetlana, Jack and the others through the mirror. They stared at the castle in shock; some of them began to pray, others drew weapons.

"Sweet Jesus," Jack breathed. "Michelle…"  
"Come on," I said. "We don't have much time."

We walked through the castle silently. Memories of the last battle I'd fought here inundated me. I kept expecting to run into Dwerger, or Igor, or Aleera; instead, there was no sound except our footsteps.

I whirled around, raising my holy water guns when I heard a feral scream. Anya swooped down, fury in her red eyes. She stretched out her talons to grab one of the gypsies. I rolled my eyes and shot at her with the guns, yelling at everyone to take cover.

"Just like old times," I muttered.

Anya made a sharp turn, and dropped to the ground, changing back into her human form. She stalked toward me, a predatory smile on her face.

"My master knew you would come here for the Castragoni bitch," she purred, smiling. "He knew you would not forsake her again."

Jack snarled and instantly phased, growling at her. Anya laughed and sinuously walked towards him, her hands curling into claws. Jack pulled his jowls back, baring his teeth, and let loose a predatory snarl.

"Where is she?" I asked, aiming my gun at her again.  
"She is with my master, as she should have been all along," Anya said. "It will not be too much longer before he awakens her to what she truly is, what she is meant to be. Then it will be too late."

She screamed in pain as Jack pounced, sinking his claws into her and ripping her rock-hard flesh apart. Jack ripped Anya's throat out, then decapitated her, stepping back as Anya disintegrated into ash. I glared down at her remains before taking off into the depths of the casle, Svetlana and Jack on my heels.

_Hold on, Michelle. I'm coming._


	13. XIII

**Author's Note**: In celebration of the fact that my muse and I have finished the edits for the rest of the story, I decided to just go ahead and post. Yay for my impatience? Many times over the course of this story, I've gotten questions about "Is Mikael coming back?" and "When is Gabrael gonna realize what's going on??". I thank you all for your patience as I drove you crazy with Gabrael's oblivious densness, and Michelle's very slow realizations. The next two chapters are your payoff. Enjoy!

* * *

:: Gabrael's POV ::  
As we ran into Castle Dracula, I contemplated the melee we had left shortly before. I could still smell the blood, could hear the dying screams of lycans and gypsies, could still see the wounds both minor and fatal. In lifetimes past, Mikael had loved killing monsters, but I had hated it. It was a messy business, death.

But now… the only time I felt like myself was when I killed. I had locked up my past, had changed my name to divorce myself from Van Helsing. But I couldn't hide my true nature from myself, no matter how many locks I used. God had created us to be warrior spirits, Mikael and me. And if killing would bring back my clarity, could make me feel like she was still close to me, then kill I would.

My thoughts next began to turn to my next victim. What could this self-styled vampyre lord's goals possibly be, I asked myself. It was absolutely inconceivable that he was going to attempt resurrect Dracula; if that had been his aims he would have done it by now. No, he wanted Michelle for some specific purpose, something that only she could give him. Which had to mean that he wanted her to channel some force for him.

I prayed I wasn't too late to rescue Annie and Michelle. I knew how vampyre operated; once humans had served their purposes, they were drained of blood and discarded. I would not, could not, let that happen to them.

Intuition told me I would find the vampyre in his throne room- he would know I was coming, and if I knew him (and I did), he wouldn't want to hide from me.

My intuition is never wrong. But even my intuition didn't prepare me for the site waiting for us when Svetlana and her gypsies, Jack and his pack, and I ran into the hall.

Michelle sat on a throne situated on a raised dais that could be reached by three broad steps. From her utter lack of motion and her blankly staring, heavily veiled gray eyes, I knew she had been heavily tranced. She was garbed in a white and black dress stained with black blood- the dress Mikael had worn to her wedding over a century ago. I choked, stopping in my tracks; he couldn't be planning to marry her, to bite her… could he?

I growled in disgust. "Is trancing a woman the only way you can get her to stay in the same room with you, Raphael?"

Raphael had been standing in the center of the room, his back turned to me. When he turned, I saw he was cradling the limp, pale body of my Annie in his arms. He licked his lips clean of her blood and smirked at me.

"Gabrael. Right on time, as always," he said mockingly. "I'll be right with you."

He turned back to Annie, biting his wrist and letting his black blood drip into her mouth. I trembled with rage, but dared not attack, for fear of harming Annie or putting Michelle in danger. Annie gasped as new vampyric life flooded her veins. Raphael smirked. My heart sank, knowing that there was no way I could save her now, realizing I would either have to kill her or leave her behind.

"There now, my love," he murmured, caressing her cheek. "Go and sit with Princess Ana, I won't be long."

Annie bowed to Raphael and glided to the dais, arranging herself at Michelle's feet. Raphael held his arms out to me.

"Welcome to Castle Dracula, Gabrael, my old friend, my brother," he said walking towards me. "We meet again, at last."  
I glared at him. "Shouldn't you be dead?"  
Raphael smirked. "Shouldn't you?"  
"What have you done to them?" I asked through clenched teeth.  
"I have been waiting for you, my brother," he said, as though I hadn't spoken. "I did wonder how long it would take for you to find yoru way here, after you deduced that I had taken the princess. But you outdid my expectations. Clearly, you are more informed this time around than you were last time."

There was a puzzle in those words, knowledge he had that I didn't. But I didn't pause to figure it out now; there were more pressing issues at hand.

"Why?" I asked tightly.  
"Oh, it's quite simple," Raphael said, turning his head to look at the girls. "Michelle is the key I need to finish what I started in 1881." He looked over at me, smiling to see how pale I now was. "Oh come, you couldn't guess that it was I who was trying to release Lucifer back into the earth?"

I stood frozen, terrible memories of that night flashing through my head. Mikael and I racing up Golgotha, clutching our weapons as tightly as we could… a ring of 13 cloaked and hooded humans, chanting in the demonic tongue… the foul stench of sulphur, excrement, and despair, the scents of Hell… a struggling, terrified human bound hand and foot to a stone altar, screaming for help… the air in the center of the circle distorting, ripping, opening to reveal Satan fighting to get out… Mikael standing frozen, weeping at the creature her once-beloved brother had become, unable to move, drowning in sorrow… the fight of our lives as we struggled to rip the demons from those they had possessed and throw them back into Hell before closing the portal…

As I stood frozen, locked in my memories, Raphael walked up the steps of the dais and stood before Michelle, considering her. He was silent, smiling, while I struggled to cut off the flow of memories and refocus on the present.

"She is the key to awakening the one who holds the key binding Lucifer in Hell," he almost crooned, running one long, elegant finger down Michelle's cheek. "Michelle will be the one to awaken my sister, your other half and twin soul. Michelle will bring about a new Eden."

Raphael's words had me terrified; his plan awakened a wild, hopeless hope. Was it possible? Could Michelle restore Mikael to me?

"It is curious, your attatchment to these girls," he said, turning to consider me. "Or I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised, considering who they are." He turned his head back to the girls. "Annie Reynolds, the reincarnation of your old mortal sweetheart, the whore who stole your attentions from my sister. And Michelle!" He laughed. "Why am Inot surprised that you should feel such a connection to her, that you should risk everything you have to save her?"

He turned back to me, and his smile was absolutely evil.

"Or could it be that you still do not recognize her? That you have not yet figured it out? I thought it would be so obvious that even a lycan could see it… but then again, you always were dense, Gabrael."

He looked at me for a second, taking in how completely he had my attention, and the evil smile grew.

"No, I can see that you have no idea who she truly is. Well, then it is simply up to me to inform you."

He took a step forward, motioning to Michelle.

"I shouldn't have to say a word, Gabrael. Everything you need to know about her is contained in her name. Michelle di Angeli- _Mikael the Angel_."

A nuclear bomb couldn't have done a more thorough job of blowing my mind. I stared at Michelle, hardly daring to listen to what I was hearing, knowing deep within me that it had to be true.

"Why else do you think she is of the Valerious line?" Raphael asked, disdain and mockery dripping from his words. "Why else does she have such strong magic, stronger than any mortal should be able to summon? Earthquakes, wind storms, channelling. Why is she seeing memories that no mortal could know- memories of the last time we were all together? How could she know… unless she was there? She is our Mikael, Gabrael! She is the mighty Saint Mikael, Princess of the Archangels, commander in chief of the Angelic Army, the Right Hand of God. The Princess of Light, the Angel of Darkness. Over a century of searching for her, and she's six feet away from you."

He smiled at me, and walked forward, his hand raised.

"You have a choice, my brother. Why should you serve humanity, which time and again has betrayed you? Why should you serve an Order that once commanded you to kill your own self? An Order that has stolen everything from you? Join me, Gabrael. Your place is with those of your own kind and power. Why should you slave for humanity, protect them from the inevitable? Your place is with me, Gabrael, and with Mikael, once we have awoken her. Join me."

I was tempted by the offer, dying to agree. Humanity had taken everything from me. I didn't belong in the humans' world, though I had given my life to protect them. I had watched over them for millenia, and all I had to show for it was that everything and everyone I loved had been cruelly taken away from me. If I joined with my little brother, I could again reclaim my true nature. I would have the love of my existance back. No more to slave for the humans, no more to protect them from that which would harm them. I took a step forward.

But something held me back from taking Raphael's hand. Something reminded me that what Raphael said was all lies, that in joining him I would lose myself. Unlike my brother, I served something greater than myself, and my place was here, with those I had sworn to protect.

"No," I whispered.  
Raphael raised an elegant eyebrow. "No?"  
I raised my head. "I won't join you, Raphael. I won't make Mikael's mistake. She joined you because she thought she was alone in the world. I know better. I won't cast off my wings and fall just so you can take revenge on God."  
His face twisted into an ugly snarl, revealing just a hint of his true nature. "Very well. Kill him," he growled, snapping his fingers.

My heart flew into my throat as Annie rose and sinuously walked towards me. I couldn't believe I had to do this… I had chosen to remain faithful to God, and in reward I had to kill Annie? I had to fail her again?

Jack changed form, letting forth a snarl that sounded suspiciously like Michelle's name and raced forward, charging Annie. She settled into a crouch, her red eyes flashing. They moved so quickly as they battled that they looked like nothing more than a tornado. Then it ended.

Jack yelped in pain as Annie hurled him into the wall, 30 feet above the ground. When he hit the floor, he phased back into his human form. I didn't have to look at his broken, bleeding body to know that he was dead. I sighed deeply, knowing there was nothing I could do for him now. Annie grinned evilly, licking her lips and walking towards me.

"Gabrael," she crooned. "Come to me, Gabrael. Join me."

I reached into my pocket, clenching my fist around the cool metal I found there, steeling myself for what I had to do.

"Gabrael, I can-" Svetlana started.

"No," I said, cutting her off and motioning her back. "This is my battle."

My throat tightened as I waited for Annie's attack. I knew I would have to do this quickly; I couldn't bear a cat-and-mouse game with her. With a scream, she launched herself through the air toward me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

I ducked as she attacked, throwing my left arm up to block her attack and knock her to the ground. In one quick motion, I ripped out the stake, stood, and used the momentum of the movement to crouch and slam the stake into her heart.

I stepped back as she disintegrated into ash, fighting back the tears. That was twice that I'd failed Anna.

"I'm so sorry," I repeated.

Raphael laughed from behind me. I turned to face him, hatred wiping out the sorrow as fire burns away water.

"Why should you worry about the mortal?" Raphael asked. "She was never yours to protect. Your concern was always Mikael. Oh, but I suppose you were never able to guard her, either." He laughed again. "Here we are again, my brother; another midnight born to watch us fight to the death over her. Doesn't it strike you as ironic? This is turning into a tradition. It's as if we were created to fight for her."  
I shook my head. "Never again, Raphael."  
"So you're stepping up to the plate, as the saying goes?" he leered at me.  
"I would face Hell to save her," I snarled.  
He smirked, his face twisting into the picture of evil. "I had hoped for nothing less."

He raised his arms, and he began to transform. He grew taller, and more powerful, his clothes ripping to rags and falling away from his form. Wings popped out of his back- black and red, and hard, like bat wings. Demonic tattoos were drawn on his right arm and leg. Horns sprouted from his forehead. His hands became talons, his feet became claws. His skin blackened, as did his hair.

This far had the Archangel Raphael fallen. Once a Prince of Heaven, now a Lord of Hell.

I knew there was only one way I could fight him. But it had been centuries since I had adopted that form; I wasn't sure I still could. I bit my lip and took a step back, uncertain.

Raphael laughed, a fiendish sound. "Fight me, Gabrael," he hissed. "If you can."

Svetlana closed her eyes, and the six remaining gypsies surrounded her. They raised their hands to Heaven and began to chant.

"_Return to us, Gabrael, Angel of the Apocalypse. Lay down your silver trumpet and pick up your bright scythe. Shed your mortal husk and reveal yourself for what you are. Return to your former glory, Gabrael, strong man of God._"

I threw my arms out and screamed as a burst of light exploded from me. My clothes ripped into shreds; I didn't need them now. I grew until I was as tall as Raphael, but I knew that this ten feet was only a fraction of my true height. A silver breastplate appeared on my chest, and a leather kilt studded with diamonds. I grunted in pain as my angelic tattoo- which spelled my name in the angelic script- was burned onto my thigh. Silver arm and leg grieves grew from nowhere, and a silver diadem appeared on my forehead. Blood red, enormous phoenix-feather wings unfurled from my back, and a scythe appeared in my hand.

I rolled my neck a couple of times, reacquainting myself with my true nature. It had been over a thousand years since I had had control of this amount of power, but it felt like only yesterday.

Raphael laughed again. "Welcome, brother."  
I glared. "Goodbye, Raphael."

Words aren't enough to describe that fight. We fought with strength, with weapon, with power and magic. The castle wasn't big enough to contain the power of an archangel and an archdemon; something had to stop us before we destroyed this entire plane.

That something came at the final stroke of midnight.

Michelle stood, still entrapped in the trance Raphael had put her in. She stood perfectly still and raised her right hand, revealing a long, lethal dagger.

The fight paused for only a moment. A moment was all that was needed for Michelle to plunge the dagger into her heart.

"NOOOOOOO!!"

I wasn't aware that I was screaming. I didn't realize that I ripped Raphael to shreds. I wasn't cognizant of anything.

All I knew was that I had lost Mikael again, before I had had the chance to fully possess her again.


	14. XIV

**Author's Note**: Here we go, the last chapter. I always have a horrible time trying to wrap up stories, but I really like how this one ended up. Hopefully you feel like the characters have earned the ending I gave them. Enjoy! Thank you to absolutely everyone who has reviewed, enthusiastically supported, and helpfully criticized me every step of the way. I may be a writer, but words can't express how much I appreciate it.

* * *

:: Michelle's POV ::  
I didn't feel the knife enter my heart. The pain was nothing; I was as numb as I had been since the moment Raphael tranced me. I couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't smell or feel or sense or think anything. I had no idea what had happened since Raphael tranced me; I might as well have been a statue, for the outer world had ceased to exist for me now.

Instead, I was in a sort of gray limbo. There were no walls, no floor… nothing but a swirling gray mist. It wasn't hot, or cold, or thick or thin. It was absolute nothingness.

I couldn't move my lips, couldn't breathe, couldn't hear, couldn't even see, though my eyes were open. I felt bound hand and foot, but there was nothing tying me. I was trapped in the limbo.

_Why am I here?_

My voice echoed through the nothingness, though I hadn't spoken. For a long time, only silence answered me.

_You are here because you condemned yourself here. You cast off your true nature and joined the darkness. When you died, you declared that you were unfit to take up your mission again, and you sent yourself here._

_I cannot stay here. Gabrael needs me. I have to go back._

_Then free yourself. Find your true nature and you will be restored to earth._

_But I do not know my true nature!_

_Then you are doomed to remain here._

I struggled against the bonds that held me, to no avail. I was trapped.  
_  
Who am I?_ I asked myself. _What nature have I forsaken? I am a gypsy princess. A Knight of the Holy Order. I am a daughter, a friend, a boss, a colleague. I am the scion of the Valerious and Castragonis. I am Michelle de Angeli._

Something within me began to crack as soon as I spoke my name to myself. I furrowed my brow, some sort of recognition bubbling within me.

_I am Michelle de Angeli._

The cracking continued, but I knew there was something more that was needed, some piece of myself that I did not yet know.

_I am Michelle de Angeli. My mother named me for the Archangel Michael-_

That was when I figured it out. An elderly, motherly voice echoed through my head like a lullaby, speaking words from another time, another life.

_"Mikael… __**Who Is Like God**__. It is the proper Hebrew name for St. Michael, the Prince of Archangels…"_

_I am Michelle de Angeli. Ego sum Michael de Angelus. I AM MIKAEL THE ARCHANGEL._

* * *

:: Mikael's POV ::  
I burst forth from my prison, only to find myself encumbered by another type of jail. I couldn't move, couldn't open my eyes or move my mouth. This was a jail cell I was familiar with, though; I was once again wrapped in a shroud of flesh.

The only function operating was my hearing. I was apparently surrounded by people, and they were all chanting.

"St. Mikael the Archangel, defend us in the day of battle. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the Devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, O Princess of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, cast into Hell Satan and all the evil spirits, who roam about the world seeking the ruin of souls."

A burst of light escaped me, with an accompanying sonic BOOM. The force of the escaping light was so great that it valuted me forward, catapaulting me off the altar-like table I had been laid on. I landed, catlike, on my feet, just before the transformation began.

I grew in stature. My clothing disintegrated, and was replaced with a white tunic, over which was a golden breastplate and a leather kilt studded with sapphires. Arm and leg grieves shielded my limbs, and my feet were encased in golden sandals. A golden diadem crowned my glowing forehead. A tattoo- my name, written in the angelic script- was burned in a vertical line down my spinal cord. Huge peacock-feather wings popped out of my back, and in my hand was a four-and-a-half foot long broadsword of gold and silver. Hanging around my waist were the keys to the gates of Heaven and Hell, and another key to the lock of Lucifer's chains. I was surrounded by gold and blue light.

I trembled as the full force of my power caught up to me. I hadn't held command of my true nature for over a thousand years, but the memory of how to control my power returned to me as if I had only used it moments ago.

At the sound of the BOOM, the great battle occuring in the center of the room ceased, and a winged figure turned to face me. I stared into the shocked eyes of my other half, of the Left Hand of God, and I smiled.

"Gabrael," I breathed, no trace of an accent in my voice anymore.  
"Mikael?" he asked shakily.

I didn't have time to answer him, because there was a crack of lightning and a flash of light, and Raphael stood before us, resurrected once again.

Gabrael growled. "Didn't I kill you already?"  
Raphael laughed. "I cannot be killed, Gabrael! You know that. We are not alive, so we can never be killed. You can destroy my form- as indeed you have both done many times before- but you can never destroy me."  
I aimed my sword at him. "No, you cannot be killed. But you can be damned."

I thew out my hand. There was a rumble of thunder, and a crack of lightning flashed in my hand. When the lightning died away, I was holding a thick black chain. Gabrael tackled Raphael and held him still, struggling against his brother's struggling. With a snarl, Gabrael tore off Raphael's wings. I fought back a flinch when I saw them lying, abandoned and bleeding, on the floor.

"Raphael, you have disobeyed the will of our Lord God," I said, my voice powerful and commanding. "You have been cast out of the Heavenly host. Join your master, Satan."  
Raphael went very still, his blue-green eyes fixed on me. "Sister, you wouldn't damn me," he said, his words echoing the ones Lucifer had spoken to me an untold eternity ago.

This time, though, I felt no compunction as I wrapped the chain around him. He began screaming and thrashing, trying to throw off the chain, but against Gabrael and I he had no strength. When he was bound, I fashioned a lock for the chain from a strand of Raphael's hair. The hair melted and reformed into a strong lock, one which Raphael could never break. I took the key from the lock and placed it on my belt, besides the key meant for Satan's chain.

"Hold him, Gabrael," I commanded.

While Gabrael held Raphael down, I gripped my sword and used it to cut open a temporary doorway to Hell in the floor. The damned souls and demons screamed at me, either calling for pity, or cursing me. I paid them no mind; all of my attention was focused on Satan, who was bound to the very depths of Hell.

"Satan, I send you company," I called down.

He looked up at me, his beautiful blue eyes piercing me. "Sister, help me!" he pleaded, but for once I paid him no mind. I grabbed Raphael from Gabrael, and held him up by the chains over the chasm.

"Be ye damned for an eternity," I said, before dropping Raphael into the pit.

I watched him fall through the levels of Hell, screaming and cursing Gabrael and me the entire time. When he had landed by Satan's side, I closed the chasm, locking it with the key at my belt, before mending the fabric that separated the terrestrial plane from the demonic. That being done, I turned to face Gabrael.

"Mikael," he whispered, staring at me. "You're… how did you…?"  
I smiled. "I just had to wake up."

I don't know who moved first. But it didn't matter. His arms were around me, my lips were on his, and I was finally home.

"Ahem."

We pulled apart and turned to see an enormous, glowing figure standing before us. I squinted in the brightness, holding a hand before my eyes.

"Metatron," I murmured.  
Metatron, the Scribe of Heaven, smiled. "Lady Mikael, Lord Gabrael," he said. "You have served Him well. God is pleased with you. He offers you a chance to come back home, to return to the Paradise you forsook in order to protect humanity."

I stood stock still. Gabrael and I hadn't been in Heaven since the Age of Man began. But now… now we could go home. I wouldn't have to be separated from Him anymore; no more to suffer on this plane, reviled by man and in danger of losing all sense of myself. I looked at Gabrael, and saw the same thoughts in his eyes as were screaming in my head.

Then I turned to look at Svetlana, and the gypsies who had placed themselves under my care. I thought of the Order that Gabrael and I had founded, of the countries who called us their patrons.

I looked back at the Metatron. "I promised Man that I would not abandon him. I won't leave now, not when they still need me."  
Metatron bowed his head in acceptance. "Gabrael?"  
Gabrael looked at me, a crooked smirk of a smile on his face. "Well, I can't very well leave Mikael here alone," he said. "I turn my back for two minutes, and she gets herself in trouble."

I grumbled and rolled my eyes, but couldn't very well say that he was lying.

"Very well," Metatron said. "Be it so."

There was yet another sonic BOOM (those were getting really old, really fast), and a bright white light. When it receeded, Metatron was gone, and Gabrael and I were enclosed in flesh once more, though not as human as we had once been. I looked around, not all that surprised to find that Metatron had returned us to the Valerious Manor. My guess was that the plane behind the mirrors- the realm of Dracula- had been destroyed.

Gabrael looked at me and sighed. "I gotta say, I will miss not being up there."  
I grinned. "You always complained that you got bored." Gabrael returned my grin, shrugging. I laughed. "You're ridiculous."  
"I try," he said. "So, um…" He rubbed the back of his neck, abashed. "Jack's… dead. Sorry about that."  
"And Annie's dead as well," I said. "I'm sorry for that."  
He cleared his throat. "Well… I mean, yeah, that's… um… but… you see, I can't really feel bad about it."  
I raised my eyebrow, a faint smirk on my face. "And why's that?"  
"Because you're back," he said softly. "Nothing else matters, now that I have you again."  
"Oh, so you like me better than Anna?" I couldn't help but bait him.  
"Well, that depends," he said, folding his arms and fixing me with a Look. "Do you like me better than Jack?"

I pursed my lips, then grabbed him and kissed him forcefully. He kissed me back, crushing me in his arms. I sighed, melting into him.

"Does that answer your question?" I asked breathlessly.

He growled and kissed me again, claiming me, branding me. I moaned, surrendering to him.

"I love you, Gabrael," I sighed, resting my head in the hollow of his neck.  
"I love you too, Mikael," he whispered.  
I looked up at him and tilted my head. "You're different."  
He laughed. "How so?"  
I narrowed my eyes, thinking, then grinned as it hit me. "You're not a lycan."  
"Wha…?" he asked, furrowing his brow.  
I grinned. "Thank God. You're not a werewolf and I'm not a vampyre and now we don't have to destroy each other!"  
He sighed in relief. "Thank God. Now get back here."

I giggled as he kissed me again, then sighed in disappointment when Svetlana cleared her throat. I pulled away, but only enough to look at everyone else.

"Let's go home?" I asked Gabrael.  
"Yeah," he nodded, before turning to Svetlana. "You coming?"  
She smiled at us. "I don't think there's really a need for me, now that the Order has its original defenders back. I will stay here, and protect the gypsy clans."  
"Very well," I nodded. "La revedere, Svetlana."  
"La revedere, meu doamnă," she answered. "Thank you. And welcome back."

I smiled to myself as Gabrael and I left the Valerious Manor. I knew things would be no different than they had ever been- Gabrael and I would be seen as murderers, shadowy threats on the fringes of humanity. Life with the Order would never be easy.

But we were the Archangels. We had made it our mission to protect humanity, and that we would do, until the ending of the world.

I would not fail again.

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Translation Note:

meu doamnă- my lady


	15. epilogue

**Author's Note**: This chapter really isn't necessary; it's just got a couple of notes, deleted scenes, play-by notes, the premise of the third part of the story, that sort of thing. Thanks so much to everyone who's supported the story thus far!

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Play By's

:

Gabrael: Hugh Jackman  
Mikael/Michelle: Rachel Weisz  
Raphael: Tom Cruise (a la _Interview with the Vampire_)  
Anna/Annie: Kate Beckinsale  
Svetlana: Donna Murphy  
Jack: Steven Strait

**

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**

Deleted Scenes

:

Scene One: In Which Michelle Explores  
Cut Because: It revealed too much, too soon, and was rather awkwardly written. Besides, I was much more interested in putting Gabe into the Chapel of the Archangels than watching Michelle get disoriented because of déjà vu.

:: Michelle's POV ::  
"Gabrael!" I gasped as I shot out of bed, panting and sweating. Then I quietly groaned.

_Not again_…

I had had dreams like this for years. The dreams were never the same, but they always featured the same characters. There was a grave, solemn Cardinal, a kindly old nun, a bumbling friar. And always, always a man they called Van Helsing.

Sometimes, I could almost convince myself that he had been a real person. One time I had even tried to do research on him, but I had found nothing. There was no evidence that such a man had ever existed.

Yet the dreams continued.

They called me Mikael in these dreams. A Hebrew name, yet when I heard myself speak it was in a Romanian accent. I had always chalked the dreams up to an overactive imagination.

Yet now, here in the Basilica where I knew most of the dreams had taken place, I began to wonder. Were my dreams really so far-fetched after all?

I'd always heard of and read about the theory of past-life memories, but I'd never really believed it. Mostly because I'd never had any past-life regressions. Just the dreams of what seemed to be an alternate reality- somewhere on an astral plane, perhaps. But now I wondered- could my dreams really be memories of a very interesting, very secret previous life?

I decided to test my new theory. If I truly had been here in the Basilica in a past life, I should be able to find my way around without any guide other than my own feet. I dressed quickly in the clothes that had been provided for me- a tight nylon black tank top and a short black skort- and took off, tying back my hair as I went.

Once in the hallway, I glanced both ways before deciding to go to the right. Shortly, I was in a part of the building I had never seen before, but I followed an instinctual sense of direction. I kicked back and let my feet take me where they willed.

I found myself standing before a tall, heavy set of double doors. Cautiously, I reached out and pulled on one of the handles, to find that the doors swung open easily. I stepped inside, checking to be sure I was alone, before I closed the door behind me.

The chapel was small, but seemed spacious because of the high Gothic ceiling. It was a simply decorated space; the windows had no stained glass and there were no paintings on the walls. The colums were plain white marble, beautiful in their simplicity. The altar was bare, and instead of a crucifix or even a tabernacle, there were only three large white statues. I walked to them curiously, wondering why this chapel was so different from other holy spaces I'd been in.

The statue on the far right was of a male angel dressed in a short chiton. His wings were folded against his back. In his left hand was a horn; a strap was connected to it, and was slung diagonally across his chest. In his right hand was a scythe that he held by his side. His hair was shoulder-length and hung freely around his face. I knew enough of my Christian symbolism to know that this statue represented the Archangel Gabriel, though the plaque on the base of the statue spelled it "Gabrael." But he looked much different from any other statue I had ever seen. He was distinctly masculine; most images I saw of Gabriel made him look rather feminine. Some people said that Gabriel was, in fact, the only female Archangel.

The statue in the middle was also of a male angel. His hair was short compared to Gabriel's; it hung around his face in curls, bound by a headpiece around his forehead. He wore long, flowing robes, and had no wings. His right hand was a staff; he carried a book in his other arm. I guessed this had to be the Archangel Raphael. I shivered; there was something sinister in this statue, something less than holy. I wasn't sure what it was, but this image frightened me.

I moved quickly to study the third and final statue, and when I saw it I stood still in shock.

This angel, who must have been the Archangel Michael, was very obviously female, and she had been created in a distinctly different fashion than the previous two. They had been carved in stagnant poses, but this angel looked as if she were moving. Her long hair and short skirt seemed to be blowing in a nonexistant wind; her wings were unfolded and extended behind her. Her left arm, bearing a sword, was raised, and she looked ready to attack, her entire body in an offensive position. She wore a breastplate and grieves, and looked like a fierce warrioress.

But what had caught my attention was her face.

I stared into the angel's face, not breathing. It was like looking into a mirror.

She had my jawline, my cheekbones. Her features were only a tiny bit more sharply defined than mine were. I even recognized the stern, fierce look in her eyes.

I glanced down at the plaque, and my eyes widened. The plaque read "Mikael."

_Mikael…_ The name I was always called in my dreams…

I stumbled back, trying to clear my head. It was completely impossible. Just because I dreamt of being called Mikael, and just because this statue looked almost exactly like me, did not at all mean that I was an angel. It was just a strange coincidence…

I turned quickly, intending to leave the Chapel of the Archangels and never return. But a series of shrines positioned along the wall caught my eye.

With a sinking heart, I realized I recognized each person being memorialized in these shrines. One was dedicated to the Cardinal I dreamed of. One for the kind, motherly nun. One for the little, comic friar. One for Van Helsing, who I realized with a shock looked exactly like Gabe.

And one for a woman who looked exactly like me. A woman called Mikael.

I stared at the shrine for what seemed like an eternity, my heart not beating, my lungs not working. Then my heart went into overdrive as I realized that I recognized every photograph, ever artifact. Those were the short swords I dreamt of at night… there was the gun that in my dreams was my favorite… My eyes widened to see a gold band, on which was mounted a single blood-red ruby. I always saw myself wearing that ring.

"This can't be possible," I whispered.

I turned on my heel and sprinted out of the chapel, almost suffocating in my panic. It was enough to learn that I was the last remaining heir of two Transylvanian familes, and that I was expected to step up as a Gypsy princess and a warrior for a clandestine Order. I could _not_ be an angel as well. It was impossible.

- - - - - - -

Scene Two: In Which Gabrael Learns The Truth And Michelle Comforts Him  
Cut Because: I decided to take the story in the complete opposite direction and not let Gabe and Mikey find out who she truly was.  
Notes: meu Dragă means "my dear"; mamă means "mother"

:: Gabe's POV ::  
I walked towards Michelle's room, mentally preparing myself for another probable barrage of memories. I reminded myself over and over that Svetlana had named me Michelle's guardian, so I had to do my job no matter what the cost. Never mind if it caused me pain. I was no stranger to pain, and was well able to deal with it. But Michelle was new to the Order, and had to be protected.

I had told Svetlana of our little adventure in the streets of London. Though proud of Michelle's natural ability, she had been worried about the attack. She had promised to figure out who else was interested in Michelle, and whether they were ally or foe. Until that time, I was to keep an eye on her.

Which would prove to be difficult, I sensed, as I stood in her empty bedroom. I sighed; I should have guessed that she would wander off. She had told me she had a penchant for getting into trouble…

On a whim, I headed for the gardens. If nothing else, they afforded a view of all the wings of the inner Basilica. Maybe I could catch a glimpse of Michelle there. I shook my head, sighing in impatience. Maybe it was just my age catching up to me, but humans were becoming more and more irritating with each passing year…

I immediately chastised myself. I had been sent to Earth for the express purpose of protecting these irritating humans. I had safeguarded their future for thousands of years; why was I turning so bitter?

I sighed; I knew exactly why I was so bitter. I had been holding a grudge against God for the past 121 years, for taking my partner and wife away from me. I had not, and still did not, understand why it had been necessary for her to die. I doubted I would ever understand, much less accept it.

Voices in one of the gardens distracted me. I kept to the shadows, listening in as I recognized both of the women talking. A glance through the bushes revealed Michelle kneeling before Svetlana, her head in the older woman's lap as she cried despondently. Svetlana smiled down on Michelle gently, smoothing back her hair.

"I just… I didn't know where to turn…" Michelle said between sobs.  
"I'm glad you found me, meu Dragă," Svetlana soothed her. "What has you so upset?"  
"The dreams… they come almost every night," Michelle cried. "And… and I keep having déjà vu… I remember this place, but I've never been here… and… and the chapel…"  
Svetlana's smile grew. "You found the Chapel of the Archangels," she almost purred.  
Michelle nodded, raising her head to look up at Svetlana, an almost desperate look in her eyes. "Mamă, what _am_ I?" she asked in almost a whisper.  
Svetlana took Michelle's face in her hands. "My love, your identity is contained in your name. Michelle de Angeli- _Mikael the Angel_. You are, my dear, the reincarnation of the Princess of the Heavenly Hosts, called by men Mikael Van Helsing, sent back to Earth by God to complete the task He gave you in your former life."

:: Michelle's POV ::  
I whirled around when I heard a choking noise behind me, and my eyes went wide to find Gabe standing there in absolute shock. He stared at me, I could've sworn I saw anguish in his eyes.

"Svetlana, you must be joking," he choked out, and he sounded as though he might start crying. "She… she's not… no."  
"Why is it so hard to believe, Gabrael?" Svetlana asked, her Romanian accent jarring awake more memories of another life. "Why would God not send her back? Your task is not yet complete, and surely God knows that without Mikael you will not finish it. And if He were to bring her back, why shouldn't she be reborn into her ancestral family, and why shouldn't she be granted the Gypsy powers she would have had, had she not been bitten and turned?"

Gabe didn't answer; he didn't seem capable. Instead, he just stared at me, and I felt decades of grief, anguish, despair… and hope. I stumbled toward him, the shock of the revelation giving way to a flood of emotions that I knew were linked to the man before me.

"Gabrael," I whispered, and my British accent started giving way to something else, something older, a voice that wasn't fully mine. "My Gabrael."  
"Mikael," Gabe choked out, and suddenly I was in his arms.

We clung to each other as if we would be ripped apart at any moment. It took me a second to realize that Gabe- Gabrael- was weeping, the sobs nearly ripping him apart. I held him as close as I could, tears streaming down my own face.

"But you're not, are you?" he asked brokenly. "You're not fully Mikael anymore."  
I shook my head. "No. I'm not."  
He heaved a great sigh, then buried his face in my hair. "Still… I have you back, in some way. It's more than I hoped I would ever get."

Through my tears, I found myself smiling, and words came out of me that I hadn't known I'd been thinking, and I knew it wasn't truly me talking.

"You thought I wouldn't come back? You thought I'd be content to stay in Heaven when I knew you were still here, holding yourself responsible for my death?"  
"But it was my fault," he whispered. "I should've protected you, I could have saved you-"  
Mikael raised my hand, covering his mouth. "Gabrael, I needed to be killed. I couldn't exist as an angel and a vampyre both. I couldn't be both a creature of Heaven and of Hell."  
"But now you're neither," he said.  
"But she can be again," Svetlana said.

I pulled away, startled; I'd forgotten that she was still there. Gabe stared at her, confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked.  
"I mean, Mikael can be brought back to you fully. And she will be," Svetlana said. "Not yet. For now, Michelle and Mikael must be integrated. Michelle must be taught, and she must be able to access Mikael's abilities and memories, before the final transformation can be made. In the meantime… Michelle, it's time to begin your training."

I pulled away from Gabe, coming back fully to myself. I could feel someone older and much more powerful stirring within me, and I knew it was my former self awakening. I wondered how it could be possible for her to be reborn- and if I even wanted that to happen.

But for the moment, I had more mundane things to worry about. Angelic rebirth would just have to wait.

**

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**From the Vaults: The Original Plot for the Princess/Angel Sequel**

Scrapped Because: A, it really didn't fit my characters _at all_. B, because I got the idea for what became _Return Us_, and this plot just couldn't work with that.

1.) Mikael and Raphael come back- they can't be killed when Dracula dies because they were once Angels. Mikael is reprimanded in Heaven for becoming a creature of Hell, but God understands why she did it.

2.) Two years later ~~~ Gabrael is now a Duke in England (Gabriel Tarlington)- he's gotten the Cardinal to wipe his memory, so he doesn't remember being Van Helsing, monster hunter extraordinaire. Mikael is ruling Transylvania, being evil, all that jazz.

3.) Gabrael throws a week-long fete for the _ton_ to celebrate his engagement to some French chick named Michelle. Mikael comes to kill Gabrael and finds that he doesn't remember her. She accepts this- it'll make it easier to kill him if the past is dead and buried. She accepts his invite to stay with him for a while. Carl is there, keeping an eye on Gabrael. He doesn't trust Mikael and keeps a close eye on her.

4.) Gabrael is attracted to Mikael without knowing why. She tells him a slightly altered version of their life before his memory loss and her defection.

5.) Gabrael catches Mikael snacking on Michelle. She tells him what they really are (and that he can't remarry until he gets a divorce- she doesn't tell him who he's married to, however). They fight (physically), which leads to a big kiss scene! Whee!

6.) Mikael has a moment of not-so-evil and remembers how much she loves Gabrael, and the desire to kill him via blood sucking leaves her. She remembers her old life with Van Helsing and wants it back.

7.) Mikael asks Carl if Gabrael's happier this way- in this life, with no memory of what he truly is. He says yes. Mikael takes her ring from Gabrael (he wore it around his neck, not knowing why), erases everyone's memories of her, and leaves.

8.) Mikael goes home and shuts herself into Castle Dracula (and keeps Raphael out- while they don't live together, they are technically still married). She refuses to feed or see Raphael. She destroys all the pods (she was planning on continuing Dracula's work). She's growing REALLY weak. She takes a stake and commits suicide.

9.) The Order finds out that Mikael is dead. They tell Carl. He doesn't tell Gabrael, as Gabrael doesn't remember… but Gabrael already knows, somewhere deep within him, that she's gone. Coz he's awesome like that.

10.) Mikael goes to Heaven and accepts her punishment for defecting- go to Hell and stay chained in the lowest, most deserted level until Van Helsing comes for her.

11.) God sends Anna back to earth with a mission- reawaken Van Helsing. Anna befriends Gabrael and they go to Transylvania (they quickly become engaged). Raphael starts causing trouble because he knows that it was love of Gabrael that caused Mikael to kill herself. Gabrael finds that he can FIGHT (dunno how- tries to kill Raphael, probably).

12.) Anna sits Gabrael down and tells him everything. Van Helsing wakes up. Anna tells him he has to save Mikael to kill Raphael. Which he doesn't want to do, as he believes that Mikael doesn't love him anymore.

13.) Van Helsing goes to Hell nonetheless, and battles… well… Hell... to get to Mikael. She breaks down, apologizes for everything she's done. Mikael and Van Helsing reunited.

14.) Mikael and Gabrael come back to go off and kill Raphael and repair their relationship. Two problems: Mikael's a vampire and Anna's back. Which makes Mikael oh so very not happy, and hurts hers and Van Helsing's relationship badly.

15.) Back to the Valerious Manor we go! They find out that only an angel can kill Raphael. And at this point, that leaves Gabrael (ish). But he needs the help of the Angel of Hell… aka Mikael.

16.) Mikael returns to Raphael as a spy. While she's gone, Van Helsing and Anna figure out that they'll never be a couple. Especially not since Gabrael's still married and Anna's… well… dead.

17.) Van Helsing, Anna, Carl and Mikael go to kill Raphael on Halloween. The act (which does defeat Raphael) kills Mikael (again). She's reborn from the ashes (like a phoenix) and guess what! She's the old slayer chick we know and love! Anna dissolves.

18.) The Van Helsings go back to Rome and re-marry. They spend the rest of Earth's history slaying various demons.

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Coming Soon! (I Hope…)

Part The Third (Part the _Last_) of the Princess/Angel Trilogy!

Title: Untitled as of right now- perhaps something along the lines of _From the Darkness to the Light_?  
Characters: Mikael, Gabrael, Nathaniel, Anah (or name her Moriah?), Raphael (?), Svetlana (?)  
Setting: 2012, all over the world  
Premise: Mikael and Gabrael Van Helsing are called to save the world one more time when promises of a new, enlightened age lead to the Antichrist and the Apocalypse. Can our heroes save the world and protect their family at the same time?  
Notes: The writing gods only know when I'll get this plotted out and written; it's gonna take me quite a lot of research about the Apocalypse and enlightenments and all that good stuff. Plus, Mikael absolutely refuses to get captured and held hostage again, so I'll have to find some other sort of conflict. I beg your patience as I work my way through this!

I post updates and such on my homepage with tolerable frequency, so if you're looking for news about what I'm up to, what I'm planning to update, etc. do feel free to drop by and take a look. Cheers!


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